A Queen and his King
by AlexithymicVirable
Summary: Arthur Kirkland never wanted to be the Queen of Spades, and for good reason. It's a miserable job for any omega, but for Arthur under the current King, it's hell. Will the new King, Alfred, be able to change centuries of tradition and (even more difficult) Arthur's outlook on life? Of course he will. Cardverse/Omegaverse USUK
1. The Queen Survives, a New King is Chosen

Words: 5045 (This should be the longest chapter)

This is the first chapter to my first multi-chapter fanfic, which should be around 40,000 words or so. Comments and criticisms would be greatly appreciated. Also ***TRIGGER WARNING for allusions to rape in this chapter***

* * *

_Tick_

_Tock_

_Tick_

_Tock_

Arthur Kirkland, ex-Queen of the Kingdom of Spades, tapped his foot to the ticking of the clock. It was at times like these that he truly resented the importance time held in Spades; he doubted clocks were so ubiquitous that they ticked away even in the prisons of other kingdoms. He especially did not need to be so aware of the passage of time now, while his minutes were so limited. Perhaps it was a form of torture? Arthur had never been fond of delaying the inevitable.

_Dong_

One o'clock. In exactly one hour's time, the former Queen would be executed for high treason. _What a load of rubbish_, Arthur thought tiredly. He had been waiting for this day for a while; given the King's previous record with his Queens, Arthur was surprised he'd survived as long as he had – nearly a full two years.

Despite his relative success, the hour would prove to be the longest of his short life.

Once upon a time, the King and Queen ruled as equals, with the Jack provided necessary guidance and advice. The duties of the Royals – creating laws, negotiating treaties and contracts with foreign nations, leading the military, maintaining domestic peace, keeping economy stable, etc – were split between the Royals, using the strengths of each to ensure the success of the Kingdom. It wasn't entirely certain what happened. Perhaps there was a particularly dominating King that took over the duties of the Queen, or perhaps the Queen's power simply began to erode over time.

It didn't really matter. Now, the Queen was almost entirely a figurehead whose primary duty was to serve the King. Normally that meant being sexually available for the King at any time, but Arthur had also been in charge of signing off on paperwork and dealing with minor issues that the King deemed 'beneath him'. Those menial jobs had been the best part of Arthur's life as Queen, because at least then he felt like he was accomplishing more than just being a sex slave.

_Dong. Dong._

Two o'clock. Arthur frowned. He was supposed to be at the guillotine by now, being beheaded. It wasn't like the King to be tardy with his executions. Arthur watched as the guards continued talking in hushed voices, wondering if they knew what was going on. Had the King delayed the execution? Did he just want to drag this out? Maybe he decided a simple beheading was too good for the ex-Queen.

_Tick_

_Tock_

Arthur leaned his head back and shut his eyes. As much as he hated it, it seemed he had no choice but to wait for now.

* * *

"We should send out a search party."

"Wait. It's the afternoon, it shouldn't take too long for the mark to be noticed." Jack Yao Wang rubbed his forehead as he attempted to address the crowd of panicked advisors.

"How did the King die?" one of the advisors asked.

"I have no idea. You all were there, you saw it. He just collapsed." Hushed murmuring broke out again, conspiracies of murder and assassinations spreading like wildfire. Yao cleared his throat loudly, easily commanding attention over the room. "An examination is being performed right now. We should know the cause of death by tomorrow."

"What's going to happen to the Queen's execution?" another advisor questioned. Yao sighed.

"Without the King presiding, the Queen won't be executed. It will be up to the new King to decide what to do, once they are found." Yao stepped over to the balcony, looking out over the streets. A muted energy ran through the crowd, news of the King's untimely demise captivating the people. "Until then, we can do nothing but wait."

* * *

Alfred F. Jones was waiting in line to run the obstacle course when it was noticed.

"Hey, Al, what'd you do to your mark?" a fellow soldier asked curiously.

"Huh?" Alfred looked down at his wrist, where the outline of a Spade had chosen as a potential Royal.

It wasn't as exciting as it seemed: almost one in every five people had the mark. It was part of the magic of Spades Kingdom. At age ten, every potential future King, Queen, and Jack woke up with the outline of a Spade on their wrist; this allowed them to attend one of the Royal schools, where they would learn all the basics of ruling a kingdom. In truth, it was very rare that any of the students would even see the inside of the castle. There could only be three Royals after all. The students were therefore strongly encouraged to plan an alternate future career, and schedule their classes accordingly. Alfred, for example, had known for years that he wanted to join the military after school, to protect and defend the people of the Kingdom.

He hadn't really given his mark much thought throughout the years. Since he was an alpha, he'd be King if he was chosen, just as the omegas could be Queen and the betas could be Jack. King Henry was fairly young though, and popular enough. There was no reason to think that his reign wouldn't last for several more decades.

So, of course, it should have come as no surprise when Alfred looked down at his wrist and saw his Spade had been filled with the elaborate pattern marking the King.

_What is that. _For the first few seconds, Alfred's mind was completely blank, apparently unable to process what he was seeing. _What the hell is that._ Alfred knew it wasn't a prank. It was illegal to attempt to alter or defile a Spade. _Oh god what the hell happened to my mark._

It seemed the soldier that noticed that mark had the same thoughts, because she was now bringing it to the attention of all the other soldiers in the line. Suddenly a supervisor showed up and grabbed Alfred by the wrist, scrutinizing the mark and questioning Alfred. Alfred was in such a state of shock that he could do nothing but stare blankly at his wrist, mouth agape.

This was the state Alfred was found in when the Royal guards appeared to take him to the castle, and it was the state Alfred was in when the Jack examined the mark and declared it legitimate. It was the state Alfred probably would have remained in for the rest of the week if he wasn't broken from his trance by the cheering of a crowd who had just learned that their new King had been found.

King Alfred was in for a very long day.

* * *

"Hey. H-*hic*-hey. Queenie. Wake up." Arthur was roused from his half-sleep by the sound of the cell's door being swung open on rusty hinges. A few guards, obviously drunk out of their minds, stumbled in. "Hey. Is it- it's true? Did ya do it?"

"Do what?" Arthur asked as he pushed himself further against the wall.

"Is it true you killed him? Ungrateful piece of-" One of the guards grabbed Arthur's arm. Arthur yelped and tried to pull away.

"Unhand me! What are you going on about? What's going on?" The guard ignored Arthur's questions as he threw him to the ground, kicking him hard in the stomach. Arthur wheezed as the air was forced from his lungs, and he curled up in pain.

"You did, didn't you!? Tryin' ta delay your ex- excution! You killed him!" Another guard dragged Arthur to his feet by his neck. Arthur tried to run but was stopped by the chain on his ankle. A guard grabbed him and threw him down again.

Arthur curled up as best he could, trying to block the flurry of kicks and punches landing on his arms, legs, and head. He felt someone on top of him, and was for a moment grateful for the respite in the attack.

Until he felt a hand down his pants.

"Get off! Let go of me! Who the hell do you think you are!?" He struggled fruitlessly as the alpha leaned his weight on Arthur, holding him down with one hand. One of the others started laughing.

"Don't touch me! Get off!" His demands were ignored as the guard continued to grope him, trailing sloppy kisses and bites along Arthur's already bruised skin.

"Stop struggling," the guard grunted.

"Ha! You should be grateful you're getting this much! Who else is gonna touch a used barren omega?" Arthur squeezed his eyes shut as tears of pain and frustration welled up in him. He wanted to scream of the unfairness of it all_. I never asked to be queen! Just execute me already and get it over with, for god's sake!_

"Oh my god, he's actually getting off on this!" Tears did fall from Arthur's eyes at that, as the burning of desire curled in his gut. _Leave me alone_, he thought desperately. He felt his omega instincts taking over, the impulse to just submit and get it over with beginning to override his stubborn pride as pheromones from the alpha guards permeated the room. A pleasant numbness settled over both mind and body as Arthur began to drift out of consciousness once more.

* * *

"You will be staying here now. I'll have one of the guards give you a tour of the castle later, and show you to the King's chambers. Your coronation ceremony will be in three days. Do you have any questions?" Jack Yao was glad that King Alfred seemed to be accepting his kingship fairly quickly. Nothing was more annoying than dealing with a Royal in denial.

"Uh, yeah," Alfred said eloquently, "Where's the Queen? Wasn't he supposed to be executed? Is there a new Queen, too?" Although Alfred didn't keep up with current events as much as he figured he should, talk of the Queen's execution was major gossip throughout the kingdom. What had yesterday been a source of vague interest for Alfred was suddenly a major concern now that he didn't know who he was going to rule with.

"The ex-Queen is being held in the castle's prison. King Henry collapsed before the execution was performed. If you would like, the execution can be carried out tomorrow." Yao watched Alfred from the corner of his eyes, gauging his reaction. Alfred was startled. He had never held someone's fate in his hands like this. And it was said so casually too! Alfred realized with a sinking feeling that he would be expected to judge and sentence many criminals to death or to jail during his reign.

"What was the Queen going to be executed for?"

"High treason." At the King's wide-eyed shock, Yao explained: "King Henry sentenced three Queens to death – Arthur being the third – for treason. It was not specified what this treason was, but it is suspected that the King was disappointed that the Queens were not bearing heirs."

"Can he do that?" Alfred was horrified at the thought that innocent omegas had been killed at the whims of the late King.

"He was the King. The King's power is virtually unlimited." Yao shrugged in a way that suggested even if he didn't like it, he wasn't fighting it. "And at any rate, his decision was not unpopular. Arthur is widely considered the least-liked Queen in the history of Spades."

"What? Why?" Alfred wasn't sure how much more news he could take. He tried to think of what he knew of Queen Arthur; he'd heard that the Queen never smiled, and that he was so cold and unloving that the King had been forced to turn to mistresses. Was it really that bad?

Yao hesitated in his answer, seeming to choose his words carefully. "Arthur is… oddly contrary for an omega. He argued often with the King and his advisors, and was very stubborn. He was also cold and aloof – not considered particularly queenly, you know. Of course, some of the rumours are darker. Some say he practices witchcraft."

"Witchcraft!?" Alfred was appropriately afraid of witchcraft and dark magic – even though such forms of magic weren't real as far as he was concerned. How had the Queen gotten caught up in such things in the first place?

"Yes, well, that is just a rumour. Some maids claim to have found spell books in his room." Yao hesitated again before continuing. "Others say they have seen him talking to fairies in the gardens. I've seen him a few times, talking to thin air. I'm not sure that he was addressing fairies, though."

_Great_, Alfred thought, _so the Queen is either an evil witch or he's insane. Awesome._

"Where is he? In prison?" he asked.

"Yes."

"I want to talk to him."

* * *

The prison in the palace turned out to be exactly like the prisons Alfred had seen in cities, only with more security. He was led past rows of empty cells, silently thankful that he wouldn't have to deal with other high-profile criminals just yet, before arriving at what appeared to be another empty cell.

Alfred was confused when Yao and the guards stopped. He peered into the cell, finally catching sight of what appeared to be a heap on the floor near the back.

"Unlock the cell," he said in the most authoritative voice he could muster. That ordering people around thing was going to take some getting used to.

"Yes, Your Majesty," a guard said as he unlocked the door. _Wow. Your Majesty._ _That's gonna take the most getting used to._

Alfred brushed aside these thoughts as he approached the heap, followed closely by Yao and the two guards. The Queen was lying awkwardly, face-down but somehow still curled up, and was unconscious. Even in the darkness of the jail cell, bruises could be easily seen, along with blood and dirt. The King felt a surge of anger, because even if the Queen was evil or crazy, he didn't deserve to be beaten.

"What happened to him!? Was he attacked?" Alfred turned towards the guards, who looked very uncomfortable. "Aren't you supposed to be guarding him? What happened?"

One of the guards cleared his throat awkwardly. "There were some other guards here earlier. I think they might have been drinking. They went into the Queen's cell."

Alfred's scowl deepened. There was no way the other guards hadn't heard the beating. "Can you identify them? I want them found and detained immediately." The guard paled and nodded, excusing himself to go find the drunken guards.

Alfred kneeled next to the Queen, trying to determine the extent of his injuries. He'd never been good at medical stuff. Either way the Queen was bleeding, and that was never a good sign. Alfred unlocked the chains and easily picked him up, ignoring Yao's noise of protest.

"Is there a hospital wing or something around here?" Now that he was holding the Queen, Alfred couldn't help but feel his panic rise. He had never met the Queen before, but he had seen him from a distance at ceremonies and festivals. Besides, everyone knew what Queen Arthur looked like: he was slim and graceful, a dainty looking omega that was anything but. It was said that his cold glare could freeze fountains, and that he always gave the appearance of being somewhere else entirely, as though the Kingdom was beneath him. He was a terrifying omega, unnerving everyone around him. So it surprised Alfred to find that he wished nothing more than for the Queen to look his typical, unapproachable self. Now he just looked pale and sickly in the dim lighting, and felt far too light to be healthy. Apart from blood and the grime of the cell, Arthur was also covered in sweat and his face was marked with dry tear tracks.

Yao addressed the remaining guard. "Go get a doctor. Send him to the Queen's chambers." To Alfred, he said, "Follow me. We'll take him to his room." Alfred was oddly relieved to see that Yao looked disturbed by the Queen's condition. He couldn't shake the feeling that this situation wasn't as abnormal as it should have been.

* * *

Arthur's first thought as he gradually regained awareness was that he must have died. The cold, hard floor of his jail cell had been replaced with soft sheets. Had he gone to Heaven? He quickly dismissed that notion as the pain in his body returned in waves.

Opening his eyes, Arthur found that his second guess was correct: he was in Hell. Hell in the form of the Queen's chambers at least, home to many of Arthur's worst memories. _Wonderful. They couldn't even have the decency of letting me die_, he thought bitterly.

It was then that Arthur noticed the young woman sleeping on a chair at his bedside. He had no idea what she was there for, unless she happened to be the worst guard in the kingdom. Arthur cleared his throat loudly and, when that had no effect, took to shaking her leg. The guard woke slowly, expression morphing from groggy confusion to startled awareness.

"Your Majesty! Er… I mean-" the woman cut herself off, obviously flustered. Arthur simply continued to stare at her.

"Excuse me," she said abruptly, standing and walking out the door. Arthur listened as she addressed someone outside of the door.

"Please go get the King. Tell him the Queen is awake."

* * *

"Your Majesty?" A small crowd of maids stood around the King's bed, shuffling uneasily.

"Maybe try shaking him?" one suggested.

"Nonsense! You can't just touch the King without his permission!"

"But he asked to be told when the Queen awoke. Is that permission?" The maids glanced at each other, at a loss for what to do. They had no clue how the new King might react if woken incorrectly.

"Wasn't he in the army before this?" someone asked.

"So?"

"Well that should wake him up, right?"

Without further ado, one brave soul stepped forward and said loudly and clearly: "JONES! Attention!"

The maids scurried backwards as Alfred immediately rolled out of bed and stumbled into position, chin up, chest out, shoulders back. He would have been quite the intimidating figure if he wasn't blinking sleepily and looking increasingly confused.

"Yessir. What?" The King looked around the room, sleep fading from his mind as yesterday's events returned to him. "What's going on?"

One of the maids stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Sir, you asked to be alerted when the Queen awoke. He is now awake."

"The… Queen?" Alfred blinked as that particular situation returned to him. "Oh! Oh, right! Where is he? Still in his room?" A maid nodded. Alfred quickly pulled a robe over his pajamas and grabbed his glasses from his bedside table.

"Great, thank you!" he called as he headed out the door.

* * *

Several wrong doors and helpful directions from the staff later, Alfred managed to find his way back to the Queen's chambers. Inside was a man Alfred recognized from the previous day as the doctor that had patched the Queen up, now standing by the Queen's side once more. Alfred then looked at Queen Arthur himself, and was surprised to find him staring at the King with cold fury.

For Alfred, the Queen now looked exactly as he expected. Green eyes shone with a fiery defiance that was entirely unlike an omega. Wasn't he supposed to be crying, asking for help and protection? This Arthur guy looked like he was going to leap out of bed and attack someone, injuries and all.

(As for Arthur, his first impression of King Alfred was rather underwhelming. He did not know the odd young man in the bathrobe, and assumed he was simply another doctor or maid. The most remarkable thing that he'd noticed about him was the energy he seemed to carry with him; it was odd to find someone within the castle walls whose passion and joy for life had not been entirely drained. Arthur came to the conclusion that the boy must be new, and he would fit in perfectly well with the others in a few months, when the enthusiasm was sapped from him.)

Most of these thoughts were subconscious, and in truth the Queen wasted little thought on the stranger. He obviously had much more important things to worry about.

"Who are you? What's happened? Where's the King?" Arthur demanded, obviously fed up. The maids and Doctor Afonso had refused to tell him anything, apparently unsure of what they were allowed to share.

Luckily, that happened to be the moment Jack Yao showed up.

"King Henry is dead," his said bluntly. "This is your new King, King Alfred." Arthur froze in shock, eyes wide as he looked back and forth between Yao and the young stranger dressed in a royal bathrobe. _This boy is supposed to be the King? There's nothing kingly about him!_ he thought.

"You can't be serious," Arthur said weakly. "What happened? Henry's dead?" Yao nodded.

"The King collapsed suddenly yesterday shortly before your execution. He died a few hours later." Yao turned to address Alfred. "Speaking of which, the results came back from the mortician. He says the King died of uremic poisoning." At Alfred's blank look, Yao elaborated.

"The King dies of acute kidney failure. Which means," Yao said uneasily, "that no once can prove that there was any foul play. The mortician does not believe he was murdered."

"Really!?" Alfred's eyes lit up at the news; this meant he didn't have to conduct an investigation into the King's death, and it meant that there probably weren't any King-killers roaming the streets. "Awesome! So what now?"

Everyone glanced around awkwardly for a moment, each waiting for another to speak, when Yao said, "Doctor, have you spoken to Arthur about his injuries yet?"

"Ah, no," Afonso replied, "I arrived shortly before the King and haven't had a chance to speak with him yet."

"What does it matter?" Arthur asked Yao, "Why were my injuries treated?"

_Why were his injuries treated? What sort of question is that?_ Alfred thought before explaining, "Well, I went to talk to you in the prison yesterday, but you were passed out and bleeding! So I had the doctor fix you up." In a more serious tone he asked, "How were you injured?"

"What does it matter?" Arthur repeated in a challenging sort of way.

"If I may," the doctor cut in, "Arthur has several bruises and lacerations covering his body, in different stages of aging." He wasn't sure how much the King knew of Arthur's past, but old scars and marks suggested that yesterday wasn't the first time Arthur took a beating. And worse. "There is also evidence that he was sexually assaulted," he said hesitantly.

At this, Alfred looked shocked and furious, as if such treatment was unusual for a Queen. "What!? Did guards assault you yesterday?" he demanded of Arthur.

Arthur blushed in embarrassment. Even if such a thing was expected of an omega in his position, he still felt ashamed that he hadn't been strong enough to fight back. His embarrassment morphed quickly into defensive anger though as he said, "Some drunken alphas beat me. What does it matter? There's a new King."

"What does it matter? Are you serious? And what does me being King have to do with anything?" Alfred asked, shocked and confused once more.

It was then that Yao cut in, deciding that the other Royals needed to sort this out by themselves. "Your Majesty, with all due respect, I think the doctor and I should take our leave. I expect Arthur has questions regarding his execution and future that only you can answer," he said. Alfred startled, seemingly having forgotten they were there in the first place. With a nod, Yao and Afonso left the room.

The King and ex-Queen stared at each other uncomfortably for a moment, neither knowing what to say. Finally, Alfred sat down heavily in the chair the doctor had vacated. He thought about what Yao had said, and told Arthur, "I'm not gonna have you executed if you didn't do anything."

Arthur was unconvinced, eyes narrowed in a calculating expression. "I hardly think that should matter to you. What are you playing at?"

"What do you mean?" the King asked.

Arthur paused as he thought, before a look of understanding came over him. "You're a commoner, aren't you?"

"Upper-middle class!" Alfred retorted, mildly offended. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"It has to do with everything," Arthur said in a patient, almost patronizing tone. "You don't know the traditions and customs of the castle."

Alfred seemed disgruntled at that. "Sure I do. I went to a Royal school you know."

"But you don't know the unspoken rules," Arthur argued, patience running out. "You would if you bothered to pay attention to the monarchy, but I suppose Royalty doesn't interest you."

"What are you talking about?" Alfred asked in exasperation.

That was when Arthur explained, in a passive, oddly detached voice: "Traditionally, when a new King is chosen he or she has the Queen executed. It's considered poor taste to keep the omega claimed by the previous King. Most Kings wish to have a fresh, virgin omega for their wedding night."

_What does it matter? There's a new King_. Arthur's previous words echoed in Alfred's mind, a new wave of horror washing over him "What!? They can't do that! There's no way that's legal," he said desperately.

Arthur was unaffected. "As long as the Royal Council doesn't protest too much, the King can do virtually anything he pleases."

"Well, I'm not like that," Alfred said shakily but with renewed determination, "I'm not gonna execute you just because King Henry died."

Yet Arthur remained unimpressed and unconvinced. He had far too much experience to believe this new King. "Oh? And what of my scheduled execution? I've committed high treason, you know," he said, smiling sardonically.

Alfred shifted uneasily at the mention of Arthur's supposed treason. "Yao said the King just made that up. What did you do?" he asked.

"I made the same mistake his previous Queens made," Arthur replied offhandedly. "I failed to give him an heir."

"You can't just execute someone for that!" Alfred responded indignantly.

"Of course not," Arthur said with an air of annoyance. "That's why I was accused of treason."

"That's still not fair," Alfred argued. "I'm not gonna have you executed just because the last King didn't like you."

"So, what? Do you plan to keep me as Queen?" Arthur was entirely fed up with this conversation. Even if he hadn't technically done anything wrong, surely the new King would be sick of Arthur's attitude and realize that Arthur made a horrible Queen.

"Yeah," Alfred replied simply, "Why shouldn't I?"

Arthur froze in shock. What was wrong with this boy? Was he serious? Did he just like getting people's hopes up before crushing them? _What if he is serious?_ Arthur thought with a sinking feeling in his stomach. _Why would he want to keep me around? Does he prefer used omegas that are already broken in? Perhaps he's simply mad? _It didn't even cross Arthur's mind that Alfred might just have a very different set of morals than he was used to seeing in the castle.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Arthur gave one last desperate attempt to have the King see reason. "Surely even you can't be so naïve," he began. "Do you have any idea how unpopular I've been as Queen? And now I've been accused of high treason, and was to be executed the same day the King died. There's no doubt I'll be blamed for his death!"

"But you said you didn't do it," Alfred retorted immediately.

"What does that matter?" Arthur asked desperately. "Guilty or not, conspiracies of witchcraft already run rampant. And now I'm supposed to have not only escaped my execution, but be kept as Queen by the new King? The Council won't stand for it!"

"Does the Council have any say in this?" Alfred asked.

Arthur paused, flustered. He had been trapped by his own words. "Not officially, but… I told you it's important for the King to remain on the good side of the Council!" He found his pace again, "And it would be a terribly unpopular decision with the people as well. You've been given a golden opportunity to get rid of the hated Queen for multiple reasons, and you're going to waste it on a decision that you will undoubtedly be called mad for?"

"Why are you saying all this?" Alfred demanded, hopelessly baffled by the whole situation. "Did you _want_ to be executed?"

This question gave Arthur pause. _Of course I don't want to be executed_, he thought miserably. _I'm not suicidal_. But then he thought of all he had been through as Queen, and all he had done before it. He had gone to University. He had planned to become a diplomat and travel the world, despite being an omega. _I was going to be great._

Then he had been chosen as Queen. The second highest position in the land, and he had become powerless. He was told to be a complacent omega, his only job in life to be sexually available for the King. Now he felt like crying, which was a surprise. He thought he had become numb to all of it long ago. I don't want to die. _But I can't go back to being Queen._

Unfortunately, because the Royals were chosen by the Spades mark on their wrist, they would rule until their deaths. Banishing a Royal didn't erase their mark, and a replacement couldn't be chosen while the previous Royal still lived. Which meant Arthur's only escape from being Queen was to die.

_I don't want to die_. The truth in that thought surprised him. He had wished more than once during his reign that King Henry would execute him as he had his previous Queens, just so that he could escape. But here the opportunity was, and he didn't want to argue any more for his execution.

Arthur laughed, a surprised, almost hysterical sound. "No. I…" He shook his head, emotions shutting down once more. _It doesn't matter._ "Never mind. You are the King; it's entirely your decision."

It seemed that Queen Arthur's rule was not yet over.

* * *

**A/N: So the king (the dead one, not Alfred) is sorta based off of King Henry VIII. He had six queens, and you might remember their fates from this thing: divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded, survived. Of the beheaded ones, they were executed for treason by cheating on the king. Because cheating on the king was apparently treason. Some say the reason he kept getting new wives was because he got bored of them, or fell in love with someone else, or felt threatened by them, or was disappointed that he wasn't getting any male heirs. So yeah, he was kind of a prick.**

**Also, Doctor Afonso is meant to be Portugal. Did you know the Anglo-Portuguese Alliance is the oldest alliance still in force in the world today? I imagine they're pretty good buds.**

**Chapter 2 should be up today. I'll try to get chapter 3 up tomorrow.**


	2. A Coronation and a Council Meeting

Words: 3338

Also, I forgot to mention, there will be smut. It won't be for several chapters, though. Sorry :(

* * *

The next two days passed by very quickly. Between getting acquainted with being King and preparing for his coronation, Alfred had no time to relax or to explore the castle. Arthur was busy resting and recuperating, per the doctor's orders, so Yao was in charge of introducing Alfred to all of the duties he was expected to fulfill as King. In fact, the King and the Queen didn't even see each other again until the day of Alfred's coronation.

Arthur found the ceremony to be identical to his own. It was a lot less nerve-wracking, he reflected, being on the other side of the coronation. He stood at the front of the room, next to Jack Yao and the empty space where the King would stand, and waited for the music to begin. The Queen stared straight ahead as he waited, burning a hole into a spot on the wall as he steadfastly ignored the whispers and not-so-subtle glances in his direction. He had been right when he predicted the people would not take too kindly to his continued sovereignty.

The music began and everyone quieted down immediately. From the opposite end of the room, Alfred entered and began slowly walking down the aisle in time with the music. Arthur distantly noticed that Alfred seemed nervous; it was to be expected. He remembered his own coronation, the combination of fear and nervousness, balanced with a touch of excitement, as he was sworn in. Back then, he was naïve. Some part of him thought he could be different than the previous queens. Some part of him was excited at the power and prestige he incorrectly believed his position would bring him.

Not that it mattered. Arthur would have been sworn in whether he wanted to or not, just as Alfred was being sworn in now. But he berated himself still for being stupid enough to think that anything good would come to him from this mess. At least Alfred's obvious enthusiasm was not entirely misplaced; it was wonderful to be King.

Once he reached the front Alfred stood to stand between Arthur and the mysterious Ace. Arthur saw him give him and Yao a nervous smile, which Arthur did not return. Alfred then faced the front of the room as the hooded Ace stepped forward.

"Esteemed citizens of Spades," the Ace began, "we are gathered here today to recognize and crown the next King of Spades." Acknowledging his cue, Yao stepped forward and kneeled before the Ace.

"Do you, Jack Yao, recognize and accept Alfred Jones as the rightful King of Spades?"

"I do," Yao replied solemnly.

"Do you swear to serve the King, and the Kingdom of Spades, by protecting and advising the King to the best of your abilities?"

"I swear it."

Arthur stepped forward as Yao returned to his position, still refusing to look at the crowd of nobles. He kneeled before the Ace and stared at the ground.

"Do you, Queen Arthur, recognize and accept Alfred Jones as the rightful King of Spades?"

"I do," Arthur replied impassively, just as he'd been trained.

"Do you swear to serve the King, and the Kingdom of Spades, by protecting and providing for the King to the best of your abilities?"

Arthur paused at this. _Protecting and providing for_- he wondered what would happen if he said no. He wondered what would happen if he said nothing at all, if he just stood up and left the room, if he started walking and never stopped, never looked back- he swallowed. Took a deep breath. He could not escape his duties.

"I swear it."

Arthur stood as he completed his oath and obediently returned to stand next to Yao. He ignored the worried look the King sent him as Alfred stepped forward and bowed.

"Do you, Alfred Jones, solemnly swear to govern the people of the Kingdom of Spades to the best of your abilities; to protect and maintain the order of the Kingdom; and to protect and defend its people and its culture for as long as you shall live?"

"I swear it," Alfred said immediately.

"Then with the power vested in me, I now proclaim you King Alfred Jones, King of Spades." The crowd cheered as the Ace placed the King's crown on Alfred's head. Arthur couldn't help but noticed how pale and shaken Alfred seemed. _As if these words actually mean something_, he thought ruefully.

Alfred stood with a smile to face the crowd as the newly crowned King of Spades.

* * *

Arthur accompanied his new King as they went around mingling at the coronation banquet. This was Alfred's first time meeting most of these nobles and aristocrats, all of whom were very interested in getting on the King's good side. Having come from nobility, Arthur had been around these people since before he was chosen Queen. And it was because he knew them so well that he wished nothing more than to get away from them. _Arrogant, self-centered pricks_, he thought as he calmly introduced Alfred to another Duke. At least the banquet didn't require them to dance.

The most positive thing Arthur could find in the whole event was that his family had deemed it unnecessary to attend. His family was noble, and with three older alpha brothers, Arthur had seen more than his fair share of pandering and attempted social climbing. He found it particularly ironic, then, that although he was technically the most successful of his brothers as Queen, none of them envied his position. They were more than happy to make fun of the defiant and insubordinate omega being chosen as the ultimate submissive omega Queen. But then, they had always picked on Arthur for what they considered to be resisting his nature. Arthur, for his part, blamed having three alpha brothers on his abnormally rough personality.

Arthur hadn't seen his family since his own coronation, a couple of years ago. He suspected that at least a few of them may have also attended his execution, but he hadn't gotten a chance to see if his suspicions were correct. Either way, it didn't matter now. All Arthur had to do was point out important people and whisper to Alfred their names and why they mattered. It s a simple enough task, seeing as most of the people seemed to be ignoring Arthur's existence. Again, not unusual for these types of events, but Arthur was worried some of them might be tactless enough to ask about his execution or continued reign as Queen.

Alfred appeared to be perfectly happy going around and meeting new people. It was entirely expected of an alpha, as far as Arthur was concerned. Aside from whispered questions and sideways glances, Alfred did not attempt to talk to Arthur or drag him into any conversations, for which Arthur was grateful.

Most of the night was passed in this manner, and Arthur expected it to end like that. Towards the end of the night, however, Arthur found Alfred walking with determination toward a man Arthur didn't recognize.

The man turned as they approached, and Arthur nearly dropped his champagne glass in shock. He looked almost identical to Alfred, with the exception of slightly longer hair and a slightly gentler smile. Arthur immediately noted that he was an omega, and based on the ill-fitting suit he assumed the man didn't attend many events like this.

"Hey, Mattie! You came!" Arthur was startled at the noticeable difference in Alfred's tone. What he had mistaken for friendly enthusiasm when Alfred was talking to the nobles turned into actual joy when talking to 'Mattie'.

"Hi, Al. Sorry I'm late," he said with a small smile, bowing slightly. "I wasn't sure I'd be able to make it in time. I'm sorry I missed the ceremony."

"Don't worry about it! I can't believe you actually made it. I thought you had classes. Oh!" Before Matthew could respond, Alfred turned to Arthur.

"Arthur, this is my twin brother Matthew. Matthew, this is Arthur," he said, beaming brightly. Arthur could not think of a single reason why he should be introduced to Alfred's brother, but he nodded in Matthew's direction nonetheless.

Matthew bowed slightly, and seemed a bit nervous. "It's uh, a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty," he said.

"The pleasure is mine," Arthur replied coolly.

Alfred grinned and began to chat animatedly. Arthur learned that Matthew was apparently, "like the smartest guy in the world"; he was attending medical school and wanted to open a practice of his own eventually; he didn't have a Royal mark so he and Alfred attended different schools after they turned ten; he had a pet polar bear (Arthur began to wonder if any of this was true); and he was, as Alfred put it "annoyingly easygoing". Arthur smiled and nodded and listened to Alfred babble the rest of the night away.

"So, Mattie, how long are you staying?" Alfred asked as the night drew to a close. Matthew smiled sheepishly.

"Oh, I'm afraid I'll have to leave first thing in the morning. I've got work this afternoon," he said.

"Skip it," Alfred said unconcernedly. "You should take a vacation. Stay at the castle. I wanna show you around!"

"I'd love to, Al," Matthew said with a smile, "but I'm really busy right now. Classes end in a few months; I can ask off of work and take a vacation then."

Alfred frowned petulantly. "You don't need to work. You don't even need to go to school!" Alfred's eyes lit up as an idea formed in his mind. "I'm King! I'm loaded now! You don't ever have to work again, Mattie. You can move here to the castle with me!"

This time it was Matthew that frowned. "Thanks, Al, but I'm not sure that's such a good idea." He hurried to continue at Alfred's downtrodden expression. "It'd be great to move closer here, but I can't do that until I'm done with school. And I do want to finish school, Alfred. I'm not just working because I have to; I want to help people. I'm not sure what I'd do with myself if I was just sitting around the castle all day."

Arthur resisted the urge to glare at him, resentment burning in his stomach. _You still have a choice_. It wasn't fair, Arthur thought as he stared at the omega with big dreams and a bright future. _It isn't fair at all. _He was surprised by the strength of his resentment and quickly brushed it off.

Alfred still seemed disappointed, but he nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I know. Just," his voice was tight with some emotion Arthur couldn't identify, "write to me more often. When you're done with your degree, you really should move here."

"I'll write and visit as much as I can," Matthew said with a small smile. "It was really great seeing you today, Al. Congratulations." Arthur was impressed to find that Matthew really meant it; he didn't sound sarcastic or bitter at all. _So that's what a decent brother is like_, he thought.

Alfred and Matthew said their goodbyes, and Arthur and Alfred headed off to their separate rooms, ready for the end of a very long day. Arthur drifted to sleep with colorful dresses and bright fake smiles in his mind, the genuine happiness in Alfred's voice as he spoke to his brother causing all the pomp and circumstance to fade into the background.

He slept soundly that night.

* * *

On the afternoon following the coronation, Alfred attended his first Royal Council meeting. The Royal Council was a group of high-ranking advisors to the King; typically they were nobles, or wealthy and influential businessmen. There were Dukes and Earls and people with all other types of fancy titles, and although it wasn't a rule, all of them happened to be alphas. Each one was meant to represent a portion of the Kingdom, and to know about and consider those people when discussing issues and making decisions. Alfred had met many of them individually over the past few days, but this was his first official meeting and he was fairly nervous.

"There are no particularly urgent issues to deal with, so the meeting should run pretty smoothly," Arthur advised as they walked down the hall towards the conference room. Alfred wondered if he looked as anxious as he felt. "I imagine they'll ask a bit about you, to figure out how to best get in your favor. They'll also want to know if you plan on making any changes now that you're King, but I doubt they'd be disappointed if things are left the way they are now."

Alfred nodded as Arthur continued speaking, trying to absorb all of the information. Would he be expected to run the meeting from the start? He wished Yao didn't have another meeting to attend; Yao was really good at taking charge. Then he wondered if Arthur could run the meeting.

Before he had a chance to ask, the couple reached the door to the conference room. Arthur opened it without hesitation, gesturing for Alfred to enter first. Alfred did so, attempting to walk with a confidence that he didn't feel.

The room consisted of a large oval table with papers and briefcases scattered across it. People were milling about and chatting, discussing everything from controversial political topics to how their distant relatives' wives were doing. Alfred thought it was oddly reminiscent of the banquet yesterday.

Since there were still a few more minutes before the meeting was supposed to start, Alfred began wandering the room and introducing himself to the people he hadn't meant yet. Arthur didn't join him, instead choosing to immediately sit down at his spot at the head of the table next to the King's chair.

By the time the meeting had started, Alfred had managed to relax. He made a brief formal introduction before turning the floor over to the room, seeing as he didn't have anything pressing he needed to discuss. As Arthur had predicted, most of the questions were about whether he had plans to make certain policy changes.

"Sir, how do you plan to address the growing crime rates in the Outer Districts?" a Councilmember asked around an hour later, after Alfred nodded to her. "I understand King Henry made plans to increase the police presence in certain areas, once he worked out some issues with funding?"

Alfred looked through his notes, finding the aforementioned plan and scanning it. Yao had given him all of the paperwork he might need for this meeting, and then some, but Alfred hadn't had a chance to read it all before the meeting and wanted to do so before agreeing to anything.

"Yes, I have those plans, but I want to review them before making any final decisions," he said. The woman nodded respectfully. Alfred had quickly learned, to his relief, that most of the Council members were extremely polite and accepting of the King's decisions. So far, at least.

"The meeting's almost over," Arthur muttered quietly. That was one thing that had thrown Alfred off; Arthur hadn't said one word since the meeting began. He had been perfectly fine talking on the way to the meeting room, and obviously knew what was going on and what Alfred should expect of the meeting, but he hadn't actually participated at all. Alfred couldn't ask in the middle of the meeting though, so he had just ignored it. Now he looked at the clock, and saw that Arthur was right; the meeting was scheduled to end in five minutes. Alfred decided to begin wrapping up.

"Alright, the meeting will be ending in a few minutes. Is there anything else you'd all like to discuss?" he asked. One Councilmember cleared his throat quietly. Alfred nodded to him.

"Your Majesty, has it been decided who your new Queen will be?" he asked. Alfred was startled. What sort of question was that? Arthur had attended his coronation ceremony as Queen, and he had taken the oath. He didn't notice Arthur now stiffen next to him at the question.

"Uh, yes," he said, recovering. "Arthur will continue to be Queen." There was some murmuring around the table at this news.

"And what is to become of the Queen's execution?" the Councilmember asked boldly. Alfred frowned; Arthur was sitting right next to him!

"The Queen has been cleared of all charges," he said bluntly. The level of murmuring increased noticeably.

"Is that your official ruling? Hasn't the Queen committed treason?" Alfred looked at Arthur out of the corner of his eye, shocked at the tactlessness of the Council. He didn't understand why Arthur still wasn't saying anything to defend himself.

"There is no evidence of whatever treason the Queen has been accused of," he said firmly. "He has been cleared of all charges and is to remain King, by my orders." Full blown conversations began at this proclamation, and Alfred wondered if the meeting had simply dissolved. He looked uncertainly at Arthur again, who was staring resolutely ahead, ostensibly noticing nothing. Then, another Councilmember cleared his throat.

"In that case, Your Highness, have arrangements been made for the wedding?" he asked. Alfred froze. _Wedding?_ The truth of the matter was, Alfred should have thought of this the day he was chosen as Queen. It was the law of the land that the King and the Queen must be married, as common and expected as the coronation. Arthur had even mentioned it when they first met, less than a week ago. And yet it had somehow completely slipped Alfred's mind that he was supposed to marry his Queen. He was supposed to marry Arthur.

He shuffled through his papers nervously, trying to buy time to think of a response. It was then that he came across a paper he hadn't noticed before, conveniently labeled with the word 'WEDDING' in all capital letters, and underlines three times. Apparently Yao had predicted this. All that was on the page were a few sentences prefaced with the words 'READ THIS'. Alfred read aloud shakily:

"'The wedding will take place one week from the coronation. Invitations should be arriving in the mail shortly'." He swallowed hard, re-reading the words he'd just said. _One week from the coronation_. That was in six days. He would have barely known Arthur for a week. _I can't do this_, he thought desperately, the reality of the situation sinking in.

Alfred was a bit of an idealist. He would be the first to say so, and he would say it proudly. He had big dreams for himself, and for the future: he would serve in the army, become a top-ranking general or a police officer or something, and save the world. Somewhere along the way, he would fall in love, get married, and start a family. It was the ideal scenario, and not really thought out at all beyond that, but it was Alfred's dream. He had realized when he'd been chosen as King that he wouldn't be able to stay in the army and he wouldn't be able to save the world (at least, not in the awesome punching-bad-guys-in-the-face kind of way), but he hadn't thought about how it would affect the other aspects of his life. He'd never be able to fall in love, or if he did then he'd never be able to marry them. He would have to marry Arthur, barely a week after they'd met, before he really got a chance to know him at all.

Next to Alfred, nobody noticed Arthur's increasingly pale face or the vaguely sickly look about him. Arthur, unlike Alfred, had not forgotten about the wedding. He also knew that it was customary for the wedding to take place shortly after the coronation, to make everything official as soon as possible. But this was the first time it was mentioned out loud, and it was impossible for Arthur to ignore the memories of his last wedding.

It was going to be a long week.

* * *

**A/N: So the coronation scene is based off a ton of different things. I looked at coronation ceremonies in general, then the coronation ceremonies for British monarchs (which is super specific), then I read about the US President's inauguration oath, then I watched some movie clips of fictional coronations.**

**One thing I really wanted to put in that would have worked great for Alfred but that I couldn't fit was his middle name. With the president's inauguration, the Chief Justice recites the oath in parts and the president repeats it back. With Harry S Truman, the Chief Justice called him Harry Shipp Truman in the oath, but Truman repeated it back as Harry S Truman. It turns out, the S is his whole middle name. I really want someone to write something with Alfred in that sort of situation.**

**Also, I love Cardverse stories like this where the coronation and wedding happen pretty much immediately. In real life, it's not like that. In the British monarchy, for example, the new King or Queen typically waits at least a few months before the coronation, to allow a period of grieving for the late King or Queen. Also, a King or Queen will rule alone rather than rushing into marriage. While arranged marriages would happen, they weren't like this (obviously). My excuse is that the King or Queen's rule isn't official until the coronation, when they take oath, so it's scheduled for as soon as possible to avoid instability in the Kingdom. And since the King and Queen are chosen by magic, there's never only one ruler, so it's always an arranged marriage type of situation.**

**Sorry for the long author's note. Up next is the wedding, but no smut yet.**


	3. Wedding, Part One

Word Count: 3639

Thank you so much for the follows/favorites/reviews! The next chapter should be up Sunday.

* * *

Much to Arthur's surprise, the week passed quickly in a bundle of nerves and terror. He managed to keep himself relatively busy and distracted the first few days, catching up on paperwork that he had neglected since his failed execution and sorting some new letters and announcements that the new King hadn't gotten to yet. It was a relatively low workload, but the King was constantly busy dealing with the more time-sensitive work while still learning his way around the palace. At any rate, it was extremely easy for Arthur to avoid Alfred entirely, and, in the beginning, his wedding.

Two days before the marriage, Arthur found himself unable to avoid the situation any longer. The castle staff were all busy with preparations for the ceremony, part of which included preparing the King and Queen. The maids chattered on as they retook Arthur's measurements for a new wedding gown. Some were excited, or at least feigned excitement. Some tried to talk to Arthur, saying things like 'I've always loved royal weddings' or 'second time's the charm!'. Arthur's favourite maids were the ones who ignored him entirely, treating him instead as another decoration to be properly prepared and placed for the ceremony.

The last time he went through this, Arthur had attempted to engage in conversation. He had never been a particularly sociable person, but at the time he was bursting with anxiousness and anticipation over what was to be his 'Big Day'. The maids were perfectly willing, even happy, to offer their advice on how to make a good husband and how to be the perfect married omega. They were much more enthusiastic back then. Of course, Arthur realized that many people would consider this wedding a disgrace since it was generally frowned upon for an omega to be mated to multiple people, even after their partner died. For the Queen, there was apparently an exception. _Lucky me_, he thought.

Even he felt that this wedding was a mockery of a proper one. Now that he knew what to expect from his marriage, any excitement Arthur may have erroneously felt last time had been replaced with rightful terror and dread. The day before the wedding, he became tense and agitated. He paced his room, feeling the confines of the walls press in on him more than ever. A million scenarios ran through his mind, a million ways to get out of the wedding, each more desperate than the last. Over time, Arthur became pale and shaky, vomiting several times to the worry of the maids watching him. When a last-minute rehearsal was called the night before, Arthur refused to attend, locking himself inside of his bathroom and refusing to come out or say anything.

On the actual day of the wedding, Arthur somehow felt even worse. _I can't do this_, he thought. That same thought ran through his mind on repeat throughout the morning, his anxiety-ridden mind unable to come up with any other coherent thoughts. He was silent as the maids flurried around him, dressing him and applying makeup. They held a mirror up to him. He recognized the reflection, the same one that had stared at him only a couple years ago; a doll before it was broken.

The panic from the previous day had left Arthur by then, replaced now with a tranquil sense of acceptance. He could do nothing to change his fate. Arthur tuned out the hurried speaking of the maids who were rushing to prepare last-minute details. All he could hear was the ticking of one of the many clocks in the palace; or perhaps the ticking was just in his head. The feeling he had was oddly reminiscent to what he felt in the prison, but worse. He felt like he was waiting for something worse than an execution.

"I need to speak to the doctor," Arthur said out of the blue. A couple of maids stopped to stare at him, dumbfounded.

"Are you feeling ill?" a maid asked. "Can it wait until after the ceremony?"

"No," Arthur said firmly. "I need to speak with Doctor Afonso. Now."

The maids glanced at each other uncertainly before one of them hurried out of the room to get the doctor. They began asking him questions to find out what was wrong, but Arthur brushed them off. A few minutes later Afonso arrived, out of breath and concerned. He bowed slightly.

"Is there something I can do for you, Your Majesty?" he asked politely.

"Yes," Arthur replied, "I would like to speak to you alone." Both the doctor and the maids looked bewildered at the request.

"Your Majesty," a maid said hesitantly, "we need to leave for the ceremony in just a few minutes."

"I'm well aware of that," Arthur snapped impatiently. He took a deep breath, calming himself. "I only need a moment."

The maids hesitated again before nodding, exiting the room respectfully. Afonso hesitated a moment, waiting for the Queen to speak, before speaking himself.

"Are you feeling sick, Arthur?" he asked, dropping the formalities.

"Of course I'm bloody well feeling sick," Arthur said irritably. "I can't do this again, Afonso."

Afonso frowned in understanding. "I'm sorry, Arthur. I'm not sure what I can do."

"I need sleeping pills," Arthur said bluntly.

"…sleeping pills?" Afonso said with surprise.

"Yes. I-" Alfred glanced away, toying nervously with the edge of his gown. "I know that I can't do anything to stop any of this. But," he looked at Afonso with renewed determination, "I can at least control how aware I am of it."

Afonso looked extremely uncomfortable with the whole idea. "You want to… sleep through your wedding night?"

"Yes," Arthur said resolutely. The doctor chewed at his lip, torn between helping his friend and respecting tradition. Was a person allowed to sleep through their wedding night? Finally, he nodded.

"Alright," he said, pulling a seemingly random bottle out of one of his many pockets. He liked to keep some basic medicines on him at all times, just in case. "I'll give you two sleeping pills-"

"Just give me the bottle," Arthur said immediately. Afonso frowned, opening the bottle and shaking out a couple of pills.

"These are pretty strong. Just," he held the pills out to Arthur, "take them if you need to." Arthur stared at the offered pills for a moment before accepting them and slipping them into a pocket on his robe.

"Thank you," he said, oddly detached. Afonso bowed slightly, expression grave.

"If you need anything, just call. Otherwise, I'll see you tomorrow," he assured before excusing himself. Arthur palmed the pills in his pocket, holding onto them as though they were a lifeline.

* * *

The wedding ceremony, as with the coronation, was identical to the last one Arthur took part in. He stood just outside the door to the chapel, holding his flowers in a death-grip as he waited for the music to start.

_Tick_

_Tock_

_Tick_

_Tock_

Arthur was going to smash that damned clock. He was going to smash every clock in the Kingdom if they kept it up. It truly was a form of torture.

The music started. Arthur's stomach dropped to the floor. The door opened, and he was ushered forward. He didn't trip or stumble, but instead walked stiffly and formally. _Like a prisoner marching to his execution._

At the front of the room stood the marriage officiant and the King.

_Tick, step. Tock, step._

Alfred watched the Queen walk down the aisle. Arthur walked with a perfectly regal air, just as he always walked. It was almost too perfect, in fact; he nearly seemed to float, gliding across the ground without touching it. He carried an ethereal, otherworldly air about him. It was as if the world couldn't touch him, as if he was part of something far beyond mere earthly concerns. To Alfred, and anyone else that ever saw him, it only served to accent his cold, aloof appearance. To Arthur, it was exactly as he wanted to appear; unbreakable and untouchable, always.

The Queen walked perfectly in time with the music. He had stopped being able to feel his body and found that his own mind seemed to disconnect from him. It was as though he was simply observing the ceremony from outside of himself, an indifferent bystander to the whole event.

He reached the front of the room as the music stopped and he turned to face the King. A distant part of him noted that Alfred seemed nervous. He was smiling unsteadily and looked horribly uncomfortable in his wedding robes. As the officiant droned on, Arthur found himself slowly returning to himself.

He saw that Alfred looked the same way he did on his coronation day; apprehensive but excited. Perhaps there was a bit more nerves, seeing as a wedding felt a lot more personal than a coronation.

As Arthur watched though, he found himself overwhelmed by a sudden surge of anger at the King. King Alfred, who was smiling nervously, looking like a little kid playing dress-up in his father's clothes. King Alfred, who had been thrust into his position with no warning and suddenly found himself on top of the world. King Alfred, who was probably worried about whether he would be a good King, if he would adjust to living in the castle, if he could fulfill his duties and responsibilities faithfully.

The King, who could do anything he wanted while Arthur could do nothing. Alfred, who might have spoken to the maids of his nervousness for the wedding while Arthur was in another room vomiting in terror. They had both lost everything, being forced into these positions of Royalty, but Arthur felt that he had lost so much more. He could fulfill the responsibilities of the King; who could fulfill the responsibilities of the Queen?

Alfred was an alpha. He had had everything handed to him. While Arthur had struggled to prove himself in school, to prove that he could be more than a homemaker and child-raiser, Alfred would have breezed through without any problems. When Arthur fought for his right to take alpha and beta classes, to learn skills he 'wouldn't need', Alfred would have had no such limitations.

Alfred was afraid of marrying an omega he didn't love, and having an unhappy marriage. He could find a mistress in a day if he wanted. Arthur was afraid of being raped and abused, of having no say and no power.

He hadn't had any power to begin with.

It occurred to Arthur that Alfred probably didn't even think of any of that. He had no idea of the turmoil Arthur had been in the past few days, weeks, years. They lived in two different worlds, an alpha and an omega world, and Arthur would kill to have only to face the petty fears of an alpha. Fate had been cruel to make him an omega, and infinitely crueler to make him a Queen.

"Now, I will ask the alpha and omega for their vows," the officiant announced. Arthur broke out of his tumultuous thoughts at this. It was almost over.

"Do you, Alfred Jones, take Arthur Kirkland to be your lawfully wedded omega," he began, "to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do you part?"

Arthur watched with an unreadable expression as Alfred took in a deep breath and shakily said, "I do." The King smiled as his Queen, proud of himself for getting through it. They were almost through it.

"And do you, Arthur Kirkland, take Alfred Jones to be your lawfully wedded alpha; to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forward until death do you part?"

Arthur felt sick. He felt like laughing. Hysterically laughing. This was hilarious, didn't everyone see it? _To love and to cherish_. Alfred was smiling at him in a way that could have been endearing, but to Arthur was only dopey and annoying. He was so young, so naïve; why did he get to be young when Arthur had been forced to grow up so fast?

"I do," he said finally. _Flip, swish, snap_. Arthur could hear the blade of the guillotine falling.

"Then with the power vested in me by the Kingdom of Spades, I now pronounce you alpha and omega. You may now seal this union with a kiss."

Arthur stared, numbness washing over him once more, as Alfred leaned forward hesitantly. The Queen acquiesced, leaning in and giving him a chaste kiss. A detached part of him was amused by how much the King was blushing.

They had gotten through the ceremony, but that was only one part of the wedding. Next was the reception.

* * *

By the time they'd gotten to the reception, Alfred's nervousness had melted away into an odd sense of euphoria. The whole situation was still rather messed up as far as he was concerned, but it _was_ a wedding. Weddings were supposed to be happy. Alfred made a conscious decision to enjoy his wedding as much as possible.

Plus, there was cake.

Unlike the coronation banquet, the wedding reception was very structured at the beginning. Instead of wandering around the room and greeting whomever they came across, the King and Queen first had to stand in a reception line. They, along with the Jack, greeted every guest. The guest list, as far as Alfred could tell, was made up entirely of nobles and high-ranking foreign dignitaries. None of the other kingdoms' Royals could attend, but ambassadors were sent to pass on congratulations and strengthen their kingdom's ties to Spades. It was very much a political event, so Alfred put on his brightest smile and gave every guest a proper greeting.

Next was the cake, which turned out to be fairly disappointing. It was a magnificent looking cake, consisting of seven layers and elaborately decorated with spade symbols and topped with mini figurines of the King and Queen in their wedding gowns. Before they cut the cake, Yao gave a toast thanking the 'most honoured guests' for attending and saying a few nice words about the bright outlook for the Kingdom of Spades. He ended the toast with a blessing for the Royal couple: "May the saddest day of your future be no worse than the happiest day of your past."

After Yao's toast, which was ridiculously long and drawn-out in Alfred's opinion, they finally got cake. He cut the first slice with Arthur ('_my_ _husband_,' Alfred thought disbelievingly) and they fed a bit to each other, as per tradition. Alfred noticed that Arthur still seemed really out of it and wondered if he was feeling sick. He'd heard that the Queen hadn't been feeling well the past few days, but Alfred hoped that he would feel better once they were finished with this whole wedding business.

The cake was disappointing not because it wasn't delicious, but because they were only allowed one piece. Apparently, even seven layers of cake went fast with as many guests as they had. Alfred was typically one to forget etiquette in favor of good food, but he did not want to invoke Yao's wrath. As it was, the King had more social obligations to fulfill.

The last formality of the reception was dancing. The Jack dragged the King and Queen out on the dance floor and without further ado, the first dance began. Alfred heard the song during the rehearsal the previous day, but since Arthur had been too sick to come to rehearsal Alfred hadn't been able to practice with him. Luckily, Arthur was very proficient at dancing. The King himself had never been particularly fond of waltzing, but he had practiced enough that he was able to keep up with the Queen.

They kept to basic, simple steps. Alfred was not very confident in his ability to pull off more sophisticated steps and Arthur still looked troublingly dazed. After a song or two, the King was pulled away to dance with one of the guests. He saw Arthur begin to dance with some other guest, so he went along with it.

Half and hour and far too much dancing later, Alfred managed to escape to the food table where he found Arthur sipping from a glass of champagne. As he went over to talk to Arthur (they still hardly knew each other, but almost everyone else was a complete stranger to Alfred), a man approached Arthur with a wide smile.

"Hey, Artie, it's been a while," he said brightly. Alfred grew worried at the look on the Queen's face; he looked like he'd just seen a ghost. Alfred reached the pair and held out a hand to the guest.

"Hello, I'm Alfred," he said cheerfully. "Do you know Arthur?" The man seemed startled, but he recovered quickly and shook Alfred's hand.

"Yup, I guess I do," he said in a thick accent Alfred didn't recognize. Arthur opened his mouth, about to speak, when two more men appeared. They were a bit shorter than the first man, who was taller even than Alfred, and something in Alfred's mind clicked as he recognized the similar comically oversized eyebrows on all of them.

The newcomers looked confused. "What's-" he stopped as he spotted Arthur, snapping his mouth shut. Alfred looked at Arthur in confusion.

"Your Majesty, I'd like to introduce you to my brothers Allistor," he pointed to the first man, "Connor, and Dylan," he said stiffly, pointing to the last two in turn.

The joy of having his suspicions confirmed and the excitement of meeting Arthur's family overrode any reticence Alfred had about breaking the tense atmosphere. "You have brothers?" he asked eagerly.

"He hasn't mentioned us, then?" Allistor asked with amusement. "Can't say I blame him."

"I didn't know you three were coming to the wedding," Arthur interrupted before Alfred had a change to reply. "Are our parents here?"

"Dad is," Allistor said. "And we were invited," he added a bit defensively.

"I don't know, I'm surprised we came too," said the brother named Connor. "After we already attended your first wedding and all." Alfred gaped at the man. That seemed like a horribly inappropriate thing to say to his own brother! Arthur, however, was unperturbed.

"Yes, I'm sure you've already fulfilled your obligations by attending the first time. It really was not necessary for you to be present at this."

"Oh, come on now. It's still a wedding!" Allistor chipped in. "It's a pretty big deal, the whole Kingdom's talking about it." Alfred felt like he was missing something in this conversation. He got the sense that Arthur wasn't particularly fond of his siblings.

"I'm sure," Arthur said bitterly. "If you-" the Queen cut himself off as he spotted someone approaching. Alfred turned to see another man, similar in appearance to the brothers before him, draw nearer to the group. Alfred's first thought was that this must be the aforementioned father, or perhaps another brother. This belief was quickly dashed as the man ignored the others and walked straight to Alfred.

"Your Majesty," he said with a deep bow. "It's an honour." Alfred felt helplessly confused by the situation, but he bowed in return all the same.

"Likewise," he replied politely. The man then turned to the Queen, whom Alfred was alarmed to see looked even worse than before.

"Your Highness," the man said coolly, "may I have a word?"

Arthur hesitated, looking nervous about something, before nodding. "Of course, Father," he said. Arthur and his father left before Alfred had time to recover from his shock.

"That's Arthur's father?" he asked the brothers in astonishment. Allistor grinned.

"Yup, that's our dad. So how're you liking being King?" he asked abruptly. Alfred recovered easily from the sudden change in subject and began getting to know his husband's family.

He'd sensed that all three brothers were alphas, and they confirmed that they were also all older than Arthur. Away from the Queen, the atmosphere relaxed immediately and Alfred found that he got along pretty well with the group. They asked about Alfred's interests, and about his background. Alfred was delighted to find that Connor had also served in the military, so they chatted a bit about that. Then they talked about themselves, and their jobs, and the troubles they were having with some of their coworkers. For Alfred, it felt like the first real conversation he'd had since he arrived at the castle. It was like a breath of fresh air.

He also remembered to ask about Arthur; it was something he'd wanted to know about for a while. Alfred learned that Arthur was considered the troublemaker of the family. Apparently, he had a bit of a rebellious streak in Royal school, which Alfred was definitely going to ask him about later. The brothers also said that Arthur had always been extremely stubborn. They said he never really acted like an omega, and they laughed when they recalled Arthur's determination to finish University at the top of his class and get a job in politics. It had come as a shock to all of them when Arthur, of all omegas, was picked to be Queen.

Alfred felt he could have spent the rest of the night talking to the three. He probably would have, if he hadn't gotten distracted by the increasingly heated conversation Arthur was having with his father. The King was just starting to wonder if he should intervene when Arthur's father hit him with a resounding _SLAP!_.

* * *

**A/N I was re-reading this and thought that the wedding vows seemed a bit too extreme emphasizing the alpha/omega thing (especially right after Arthur's rant). But all I did was replace the words 'husband' and 'wife' with 'alpha' and 'omega'. Words are weird. I was kinda thinking, for this omegaverse, alpha/omega and beta/beta relationships are standard and don't really take gender into account at all. Basically, if they can reproduce, it's accepted.**

**Oh, also, sorry for Arthur's rant during the vows. Understand that that was from Arthur's POV; that's not actually my opinion on Alfred (well, sort of, but I'll get to that later). Arthur is just kind of in an extreme(ly bad) situation, and he's generalized his horrible experiences to all alphas. The story's kind of slow moving, but they've known each other for just over a week now. After the wedding comes some bonding time, don't worry.  
**


	4. Wedding, Part Two

Words: 3894

Ahhh, thank you all so much for the reviews and follows/favorites! Here's the rest of the wedding chapter, featuring Arthur's shitty father and a rather underwhelming but emotionally healthy wedding night. Next chapter should be up Tuesday :)

* * *

Arthur had already been feeling in far less than decent condition when the wedding reception started. He'd made it through the reception line alright, and he'd gotten through the cake and dancing. As much as the Queen was dreading the end of the reception (which would mean the beginning of the wedding night), he also hated the reception itself. That was why he found himself leaning up against a wall, drinking champagne and trying not to be seen, when Allistor appeared. Followed immediately by Alfred. And then his other two brothers. _Oh god, why are they here?_ was his first thought.

It was well-known inside the family that Arthur and his brothers did not get along well at all. It was to be expected, his beta mother said often when they were growing up, that three older alpha siblings would pick on a younger omega sibling. His father had ignored the behavior, figuring that just by being an omega Arthur was already coddled too much. In nobility, omegas had little use besides being married off to other nobles. The alphas were the ones that would inherit the money, take over the family business, and keep the family name; Arthur could do none of that. Not that he necessarily wanted to. Arthur was more than happy to move away by himself to attend university. He didn't need his family and his family didn't need him; it worked.

As long as they didn't have to interact. When Arthur had been crowned, his family had been hesitant to embrace the news. It was supposed to be considered the highest honour; they were now families of a Royal! In truth, though, most of them had little hope that Arthur wouldn't make a mess of the whole thing. And they had been right as Arthur, with his argumentative and obstinate personality, quickly became the most hated Queen in Spades' history. It came as no surprise to Arthur that his father did not seem in the mood for a friendly chat now.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked immediately once they were far enough away from the others.

"Pardon?" Arthur asked, caught off guard by the question.

"What are you doing?" his father repeated. "Do you have any idea how much you're hurting this family?"

Arthur gaped at him. "I haven't _done_ anything."

"Bullshit," he said instantly. "What did you do to King Henry?"

"_What?_" Arthur rarely heard his father cuss, and never out in public like this. And what was he talking about with King Henry?

"Look, it doesn't matter. Just," his father sighed, seemingly exasperated. "Stop. Whatever you're doing, stop it."

"Stop what?" Arthur asked, frustrated. "I told you, I'm not doing anything!"

"You were supposed to be executed," his father said brusquely. Arthur could do nothing but stare at him in shocked silence.

"I don't know how you killed Henry or what sort of witchcraft you've used to get this new King to not execute you, but it needs to stop."

"What are you saying?" Arthur asked weakly.

"Do you have any idea how much your selfish actions are hurting us?" his father asked furiously. "It was bad enough when you became Queen, but now? We were almost out of this whole mess! You've ruined the family name. Allistor can't get promoted at work, Connor's getting harassed at his job, we've practically been shunned by the other nobles!"

"That's not my fault!" Arthur retorted.

"Of course it's your fault! People are paying attention to you now. When you act up, it reflects on the whole family."

"So, what are you saying?" Arthur asked, hurt. "That it'd be better if I was dead?" His father said nothing, and Arthur felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Surely his father wasn't that cruel. "_Dad!_"

"Be quiet," he said callously. "You're making a scene."

"What do you want me to do," Arthur asked despairingly, "kill myself?"

"I'm not asking for something that drastic," he said impatiently. "I told you, just stop whatever you've been doing. I don't know who you've bribed or tricked to remain Queen, but it needs to stop."

"I haven't bribed or tricked anyone!" Arthur protested. "I didn't choose to be Queen! Do you honestly think I want this!?" He felt tears of frustration well up in his eyes. His father _knew_ he never wanted to be Queen; he had been there when Arthur begged his family to help him get out of the situation. He had ignored his pleas, insisting it was Arthur's duty to the Kingdom and to his family.

"If you really don't want to be Queen," his father now said, "then it should be easy enough to get yourself executed."

"I… Are you serious?" Arthur hated how his voice shook, tears threatening to spill over. "Does my life really mean less to you than the family name?"

"You're hurting all of your brothers doing this," he said, content with his logic.

"Wh-… did you come to my execution?" the Queen asked abruptly.

"What?" his father asked, not expected this question.

"Were you there?" Arthur demanded, the question that had been nagging at him since his failed execution finally out in the open. "Were you going to watch me die?"

His father, obviously flustered, attempted to deflect. "I hardly see how that matt-"

"_Were you going to watch me die?" _he asked desperately. "Did my brothers show up? Did Mum come to? Were you going to celebrate?" His voice became more frantic and hysterical.

"Don't be so dramatic," he said dismissively.

"_Don't be so dramatic!?" _Arthur felt something inside him snap at this. "Shut up! How _dare_ you? You vile piece of-" _SLAP!_

Arthur froze, stunned, before touching his cheek. A sharp, tingling pain spread across his face. Across from him his father, breathing heavily, appeared surprised by his own actions. Arthur watched his expression shift from fury to growing horror as what he did caught up to him. He'd just slapped the Queen.

It was then that the King chose to appear.

"What's going on!?" he asked angrily, astonished by the violence. "Did you just hit him?" he demanded of the father.

"I-" by then his father had gone white with horror. Arthur himself was still shaking; his father had never been physically abusive. He wanted this situation to end, _now_.

"It's fine," he said, voice wavering. Alfred looked at him in shock.

"Are you serious? He just-"

"I said it's fine," Arthur said sharply, glaring at Alfred. He continued to cover his cheek with his hand as he turned to address his still speechless father.

"Believe it or not, Father, I have as much control over this situation as I ever have. If my position is so damaging to you, then change your name and move," he said coldly.

"But-" his father protested, unused to losing control of the conversation.

"I suggest you leave." Arthur's tone left no room for argument.

* * *

Arthur ignored the King following him as he walked briskly from the room.

"What happened?" Alfred demanded. "Why did he do that? Should we have him arrested?"

"Leave it," the Queen said dismissively.

"What?" Alfred asked indignantly. "He just hit you! He can't just get away with that!"

"I said leave it," Arthur said harshly. He was not in the mood to deal with Alfred's foolish notions of justice. "There's no need to cause a scene."

"What are you doing?" Alfred asked as he followed Arthur into a washroom. Arthur took a jar of powder out of his robes and began to dab it over his face, covering the rapidly forming bruise.

"I'm covering this up." He checked himself in the mirror again before turning to face Alfred, who was watching him with wide eyes. "Can you see it?"

"No. You can do that? Do you carry that stuff with you everywhere?" Arthur bristled, feeling judged.

"It's useful, isn't it?" he asked severely.

"Well, yeah, but…" Alfred seemed disturbed by something. "Do you use it a lot?" Arthur frowned, the implication of the question clear. _Do you cover up injuries a lot?_

"I use it when I have to," he said finally. Alfred didn't seem too happy with that answer, but they had more urgent matters to attend to.

"We're going to go back to the reception," Arthur said decidedly. "I don't think many people saw it, and if we act like nothing happened then they won't mention it. They'll be leaving in a few hours and then we can put this whole mess behind us."

Alfred didn't argue as he followed his Queen back to the reception hall. He put on a smile and talked with a few more people, no longer in the mood to socialize. He wanted to ask Arthur about his father and brothers, but he got the feeling Arthur wouldn't tell him anything. He was kind of disappointed; he'd gotten along well with Arthur's brothers and had sort of been enjoying himself. _Oh well_, he thought,_ it doesn't matter. The night's almost over._

* * *

The thing about Alfred was that he was very good at forgetting things he didn't want to remember. This is how he ended up standing in front of the King and Queen's joint chambers, the giggling of the maids behind him making it clear in no uncertain terms that the night was far from over.

Alfred was blushing so badly that he couldn't even look Arthur in the face. How had he forgotten about this? In all the excitement preparing for the actual ceremony, the castle had failed to prepare him for this. _Consummating the marriage_. Like every other potential Royal, Alfred had learned about how his relationship with the Queen was supposed to work. They would get married and the King would be in charge of both the Kingdom and the marriage. Alfred had thought it was a bit unfair at the time, but he'd had issues with many things regarding Royalty. The instructors had glossed over the whole thing anyway, saying that as King there was nothing to worry about. The King had complete control over the situation.

Now, standing in front of this bedroom, Alfred had never felt less in control of his life. He was completely unprepared; it was supposed to be instinctual. Sexual activity, while obviously common, was a bit of a taboo subject. It made both students and instructors uncomfortable, so everyone was happy enough to ignore the topic. It was common for parents to explain the basics of such things, but Alfred's parents had never got around to it. It also didn't help that Alfred was a bit inexperienced.

Okay, so technically he was a virgin. A never-got-any-farther-than-a-quick-kiss-on-the-lips-virgin at that. It wasn't that he wasn't interested, he'd just never found the time. He'd been so busy trying to balance school work, the extra Royal classes, and sports and activities that he'd never found time for a serious long-term relationship. And then he went to the military. Omegas weren't allowed to serve since it was too dangerous, and relatively few betas joined, so there weren't a lot of opportunities. It hadn't bothered Alfred at the time because he was more than happy to let things happen naturally and wait until he found someone special, but now it seemed he wouldn't get to wait.

Then something else occurred to him. _Oh my god_, he thought, _Arthur's not a virgin_. For Alfred, that wasn't a problem in and of itself. The problem laid in the fact that Arthur wasn't a virgin and Alfred very much was. Which meant that not only did Alfred have no idea what he was doing, but Arthur knew exactly what he was _supposed_ to be doing and how he was doing it wrong. Plus, Arthur had been mated to King Henry. A _King_. How was Alfred supposed to compete with a King? He was 19, for heaven's sake!

_Wait, I am a King_, he thought, calming slightly. _It's okay, I can do this_, he reassured himself as the doors to the bedroom were opened and the King and Queen entered. The room was as lavishly furnished as the King's and Queen's individual chambers, but with an even larger bed in the center. The lighting had been dimmed and there was an extremely conspicuous bottle of lube on the bedside table. Alfred could feel his heart trying to punch its way out of his chest. He stared blankly at the bed, stomach churning in terror, as the maids wished them well and excuse themselves. _Fuck, I can't do this_. What had he been thinking? He wasn't ready to lose his virginity yet! He wasn't even ready to be married! He was trying to figure out what to say to Arthur, or to at least remember how to breathe, when Arthur spoke first:

"I'm going to the washroom," the Queen said dully.

"Uh," the King squeaked, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat, "Yeah. Okay, yeah." He smiled shakily at the Queen who refused to look at him. Arthur went into the washroom, leaving Alfred standing in the middle of the empty room and trying to figure out what he was supposed to be doing.

* * *

Arthur stood in front of the basin, washing his face in his hands and trying to forget the memory of that room. He felt that he had lost the ability to think in words or have lucid thoughts. All that ran through his mind were memories, senses overloading with them: nervousness, butterflies in his stomach as he was laid down on the bed, shyness as smooth hands disrobed him, embarrassment as he explained that he had never done anything like this before, and pride when the King had been pleased at the news.

He remembered the feel of the soft silk sheets clenched in his hands, the pathetic whimpering and whining noises that escaped him as he pleaded with the King to go just a bit slower, that he wasn't ready yet. He remembered the pain, burning inside of him, over and over, in and out, and he thought it would never stop. He remembered the scent of the alpha mingling with his own, merging as they mated. He remembered continuing to cry even after it was over, as Henry fell asleep curled around him, holding him. Arthur wasn't sure if it was meant to be a comforting gesture, but he only felt trapped. He failed to sleep at all that night, pain and fear keeping him company as his blood stained the sheets and the King easily slumbered.

He stared at the mirror now, dead green eyes staring back at him. The Queen was not the same man he had been on the day of his first marriage only a couple of years ago. He had dealt with plenty of such treatment since then and doubted that the new King could be any rougher than Henry had. Still, it hurt. He was meant to be done with all of this. He was meant to be dead. _'You were supposed to be executed' 'Do you have any idea how much your selfish actions are hurting us?' 'We were almost out of this whole mess'_. Arthur stared miserably into the mirror. He had no energy left to cry. Fishing in his pocket, he found the pills Afonso had given him and swallowed them without a second thought.

* * *

Alfred paced the room nervously. What was he supposed to be doing? What was Arthur doing? Should he wash up to? There was only one washroom. _I should've thought about this before_. How was he supposed to do this? He had a vague idea of what was supposed to go on, and he'd seen his fair shares of pictures (hey, he was a teenage alpha), but he had no idea how to start. He had no idea how to even talk to Arthur about this, and Arthur was the one he was supposed to be mating!

_Okay, deep breath, keep your cool_, he told himself. _Maybe Arthur's too sick to do this tonight? He's looked awful all night, and he's been in the bathroom a while_… Just as Alfred was thinking this, Arthur exited the washroom. He still looked pale and sickly, and Alfred wondered if his face still hurt from where he was slapped, but the Queen now held a certain confidence about him. Alfred swallowed nervously.

"Uh," he began, still having no idea what to say. The Queen looked at him steadily for a few moments before walking over to the bed and lying down on his back in the center. Alfred gave a decidedly unalpha-y squeak and stared.

He waited a few more moments for Arthur to say something, hoping for some sort of guidance. When none came he sat on the edge of the bed, looking at Arthur. The Queen still refused to meet his eyes.

* * *

"Um, Arthur?" the King asked nervously. Arthur continued staring blankly at the ceiling, waiting for Alfred to make a move or for the drugs to kick in.

"Yes?" he replied blandly. He had no idea why Alfred was so nervous, but the boy was fairly young. Perhaps he didn't have much experience.

"Uh, do you… do you want to have sex?" Alfred asked hesitantly. This certainly caught Arthur's attention. He paused before turning to stare at the King, brows furrowed; what sort of question was that?

"Does it matter?" he asked finally. "We're married. You're an alpha. I'm your mate."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Arthur was surprised to find that Alfred actually seemed hurt, and very offended. He rolled his eyes, nerves returning to him. This wasn't how the night was supposed to go.

"It means that we're married now. You're supposed to claim me," he said.

"What if I don't want to claim you?" the King retorted. Arthur froze. _Don't want to claim me?_, he thought nervously. What was that supposed to mean? Was he really so awful an omega that his own alpha wouldn't mate him? But then what would happen? Surely the King wouldn't keep a Queen that he didn't want to mate with.

"It's up to you," he said eventually, voice shaking slightly. It wasn't like it mattered; either way Arthur would be asleep in a few minutes, and then he wouldn't have to deal with any of this until the morning.

"That's not what I-" Alfred's voice was strained as he struggled to put his feelings into words. "What do you want to do?" he finally asked, frustrated.

"I told you, it doesn't matter," Arthur said.

"It matters to me."

Arthur glared at the King. Who did he think he was, to say such things? He was obviously just toying with Arthur. But why? He'd already trapped him in marriage.

"Look, I just… I don't want to have sex with you," Alfred said bluntly. At the look on Arthur's face, he quickly backtracked. "N-No offense! It's just," he took a deep breath, "I don't know you. We barely know each other. Can't we wait?"

Arthur looked at him evenly for a few moments, considering the proposal. "The marriage isn't valid if it isn't consummated," he said. He wasn't sure why he told Alfred this; he didn't want to consummate it. But he was the Queen and everything he'd done the last two years had supposedly been for the Kingdom. He didn't know how to feel about this new King that was so quick to break such an old tradition.

"But they won't know!" Alfred said brightly, spurred on by a lack of an immediate dismissal. "It's not like they're watching, right? And you've looked kind of sick all day, so it totally makes sense that we couldn't tonight!"

"I'm not sick," Arthur snapped. "And my health doesn't matter. If you're really so set on this, then fine: you're right, I don't want to have sex with you. Happy?" To his surprise, Alfred did actually look relieved.

"I knew it! So, we'll wait?" They both knew that they would have to mate eventually. Come Arthur's next heat, Alfred would be locked in a room with him until it was over, as was expected of mated couples. The raging pheromones would be impossible to resist for the both of them. But for one night, it seemed they had escaped the inevitable.

"We'll wait."

After that, Arthur had curled up on his side near the edge of the bed, wrapped securely in a cocoon of blankets. Alfred had started off on his own side of the bed also on his side, but had soon ended up sprawled across the center of the bed. Arthur had fallen asleep quickly with the aid of medication, and after the exhaustion of the day Alfred soon followed him.

* * *

The next morning the maids were concerned to find the Royals sleeping apart from each other, still fully clothed. Those that had been there for the first wedding remembered going to wake the Royal couple the next day: the King had been holding his Queen, both naked in a mess of tangled limbs. The King seemed perfectly happy and satisfied, and blood on the sheets proved the success of the consummation. This time the Queen was curled up by himself, away from the King that was snoring lightly. Had they not consummated the marriage? That could be grounds for annulment.

They gently woke the pair, who still had work to do the day after their wedding. The King was an unusually heavy sleeper for someone fresh from the military, but Queen too was slow waking that morning. Perhaps their assumptions were incorrect.

"Your Majesties?" a maid asked gently as the King slowly roused from his sleep.

"Nggh…" he moaned, "What time is it?"

"It's eleven o'clock, Your Majesty."

"Hmm…?" The King blinked hazily, becoming more alert as he noticed the large crowd of maids that had come to wake him that morning. Then he remembered. The wedding. Arthur.

"Uh." He blindly reached over, shaking Arthur. Arthur groaned.

"Fuck off," he mumbled sleepily.

"Arthur," Alfred said apprehensively, "you really need to wake up now." Did the maids know what happened? Or rather, what didn't happen?

"What?" Arthur asked with annoyance. He then noticed the crowd as well, sleep fading quickly from his mind.

"Er, good morning, Your Majesties," one of the maids said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Did you have a nice night?" Alfred chewed his lip anxiously, trying to come up with an excuse. It turned out he didn't need to; Arthur answered immediately.

"It was fine," the Queen said coolly. "The marriage has been consummated. The wedding is complete. Right, Alfred?" he asked, giving the King a sideways look.

"Uh, right," Alfred said nervously. He'd never been a very good liar. "Yeah, totally. Everything's great. We totally had sex last night, it was awesome!" He laughed nervously, but the maids seemed content with that answer.

They smiled at the couple and offered to wash the sheets, leaving the pair to return to their own rooms to get dressed. Aside from the wedding night and heats it didn't matter where the couple slept, so it wasn't like they had to share a room from then on. In their own rooms, the King and Queen both let out a sigh. They had gotten through their wedding. They both decided it went better than they'd hoped.

* * *

**A/N Did you know some places take blood on the sheets to as a sign of a successful virgin wedding? It's kind of disturbing. Also, I'm so sorry for the lack of smut in this chapter. I just couldn't fit it in yet based on the development of their relationship. There will be smut eventually though, I promise!**


	5. Baking, and, A Meeting with Diamonds

Words: 3677

So, rosenthal brought it to my attention that the beginning of my story has a similar plot as the story Rising Fall of the Queen of Spades by InvaderPey. I read it, and I'm pretty sure I've read it before. I didn't mean to steal InvaderPey's idea, and I feel absolutely terrible, but I'm not sure what to do. I think the plot of my story diverges enough after the first chapter, and obviously I didn't copy any of the story word-for-word, but still. Should I just delete this story? Rosenthal said they only read the first half of the first chapter, so for people that read the rest of my story, do you think they're too similar?

Either way, I'll post the next chapter now. There's some bonding, and Alfred meets King Francis.

* * *

The next couple of weeks passed quickly enough. Alfred had settled in decently well to his role as King, learning the ropes easily. Most of his job was just signing papers or reading recommendations, requests, and petitions from various groups and individuals. He also attended plenty of meetings, which mainly consisted of listening to nobles argue over various issues. King Alfred was considered a fair King (much to the chagrin of more corruptible nobles), and the people quickly grew to love him for his optimism and willingness to interact with the people. Few drastic changes were made, the Kingdom being in a time of relative peace and prosperity, but Alfred did get rid of some archaic laws that he considered oppressive and he toyed with taxes and government spending to try to give more money to the people. In all, his reign was proving to be very successful.

Arthur, for his part, was also settling in to his role as Queen. Technically his role hadn't changed, but under Alfred's rule it felt like an entirely different job. He attended more meetings (some because Alfred invited him and some because he simply showed up and Alfred didn't seem to know he didn't belong there) and continued sorting his paperwork. His workload was a bit heavier than under the previous King, because now Arthur was trusted with issues Henry would have deemed 'too important' for him. In fact, the most bizarre part of the whole thing was how much Alfred seemed to trust his judgment. Arthur was great at politics, a tactical and manipulative genius, and he would have gladly used his skills if given the chance. It seemed he was finally being given that chance. If the King noticed what the nobles said or the way they scoffed when Arthur began offering his opinions at meetings, he didn't mention it. He considered his Queen's opinion, even seemed to value it over most of the nobles', and that gave Arthur the confidence to continue offering his advice. For the first time since being crowned, the Queen was almost content. Of course, he was still wary, still waiting for the other shoe to drop and for everything to come crashing down, but for the time being everything was well for Arthur.

Despite how well they worked together, the King and the Queen had a bit of a distant relationship. They were friendly enough, and they considered each other strong allies in arguments with Yao or the nobles, but it never really got beyond that. It was very much a professional relationship, and Alfred feared that it (along with all of his other relationships inside of the castle) would only ever be professional.

That was why a couple of weeks after their wedding, on the day the new King was to meet the leaders of the Kingdom of Diamonds, Alfred was ecstatic to finally learn something about his Queen: Arthur liked to cook.

It was sometime in the morning, long after breakfast and too long before lunch for Alfred's liking, that he had wandered into to kitchen hoping for a snack. He was startled to find a group of cooks and maids huddled outside the kitchen doors nervously.

"What's going on?"

"Oh, Your Majesty!" They were startled, having been transfixed by whatever was happening beyond the kitchen doors.

"I'm so sorry," one said tragically. "We tried to stop him!"

"Stop who?" he asked, afraid of the answer. What was going on?

"The Queen," a maid hissed. Alfred blinked in surprise.

"Arthur?"

"Yes," she said impatiently, sighing. "He managed to trick us out of the kitchen and locked us out."

"The Queen isn't allowed in the kitchen," a cook added helpfully.

"He's not? Why?" Alfred asked curiously.

"You don't know?"

"No?"

"The Queen is…" the cook paused, glancing nervously toward the door again, "Rather fond of cooking." She bit her lip.

"He is?" Alfred's face lit up with the news; so the Queen did have interests after all! Well, he'd heard that Arthur had done a lot of the embroidery around the palace, but he wasn't quite sure he believed that.

"Yes, well, unfortunately he's not very good at it." Alfred frowned; that seemed a bit rude to say. "What I mean to say is, Queen Arthur presents a bit of a hazard in the kitchen."

"A hazard? What does that mean?"

"He has a bit of a tendency to accidentally set parts of the kitchen on fire."

"And use up all of our ingredients on food we have to throw away!" another cook added indignantly. Alfred's lips quirked up in a bemused smile.

"Surely it's not that bad," he said.

"Oh, it is," a maid assured him with a grave expression. Alfred pursed his lips, looking at the kitchen thoughtfully.

"Is the door still locked?"

"No, but it's not safe to go in while the Queen's cooking." The King laughed at that.

"I think I'll risk it," he said, opening the door. He walked into the kitchen ignoring the distressed sounds of the staff outside.

Alfred's jaw dropped in shock as he looked around the ruined kitchen. It looked like a tornado had blown through. _One person can't really cause this much damage, right?_ he thought nervously. He walked slowly though the kitchen, surveying the damage. Flour was splattered on the wall, covering what appeared to be scorch marks. A half-filled pot of water sat under the sink, limp noodles blackened as if they had caught fire. A plate of food sat on the counter: meat seared black but still red on the inside, peas so overcooked that they were dissolving into mush, and unseasoned boiled potatoes. _What the hell…?_ The Queen glanced up at him from where he was standing over a pile of dough, kneading it. Arthur was wearing an apron and a chef's hat and was also covered in flour.

"Hullo, Alfred. Mind getting the scones from the oven?" he asked casually as he began rolling balls of dough. Alfred looked over to the oven, alarmed to see that it had filled with black smoke. He opened it up and pulled the tray out quickly, coughing. Arthur frowned.

"Ah, they've burnt. Must have left them in for too long. I'm sure they're still good." Alfred glanced at the black lumps before looking back to Arthur. Why was he acting like this was normal?

"I heard you terrorized the cooking staff," he said in response, watching Arthur dip the balls of dough into some kind of oil. Arthur huffed in annoyance.

"They just can't appreciate good traditional meals." Alfred laughed.

"Is that what this is?" he asked, gesturing to the dough.

"No, these are pastries. For dessert and breakfast," he said in a way that clearly indicated he thought Alfred was an idiot.

"Oh." Alfred stood by the counter as the black smoke cleared away, watching Arthur worked. For all the mess, Alfred couldn't help but notice something: Arthur seemed completely relaxed in this environment. He hadn't actually thought of it before, but Alfred couldn't recall ever seeing Arthur look truly comfortable. It was nice.

"You can have those scones it you want," Arthur said without looking up from his pastries. He was blushing slightly. "I take it you're here for food. You can have some."

"Okay. Thanks!" Alfred said with barely a moment's hesitation. He really didn't want the scones, but he was hungry. And he had only ever eaten what he could cook growing up, so he was used to less-than-delicious food. _Plus, he looks really cute when he's cooking._

So Alfred picked a scone and took a bite out of it. It immediately crumbled in his hand and dried his mouth completely. He thought it tasted like eating burnt chalk. Arthur was looking at him expectantly, though. Not the sort of expectantly where he was expecting praise either, but the kind where he looked like he had heard every insult under the sun and was waiting for Alfred's disgusted reaction.

Alfred remembered the cooks, cowering outside. He remembered the dishes he used to make, mixing everything he liked in a bowl and eating it (it turned out everything he liked did not mix well). He decided to prove Arthur wrong, just because he was sick of the Queen always being right.

The King smiled and took another bite. "Hey, this is pretty good! Not too burnt!" he said brightly. Arthur looked completely taken aback, and then a little bit hopeful.

"R-Really?" he asked dubiously. Alfred was fairly certain he would have to wash his mouth out with a fire hose when he was done, but he thought he could eat the whole damn pan for that look of hope on Arthur's face.

"Yeah! I've never had scones before," he said, picking up another.

"W-Well, it's an old family recipe," Arthur boasted. Alfred smiled, munching away at the scones while Arthur prattled on about his cooking skills.

They passed the next few hours like this as Arthur finished some more pastries (these ones, unburnt, actually did taste good) and the pair cleaned the kitchen. Alfred learned that Arthur really did like embroidery, as well as reading and gardening. He laughed at Arthur for these stereotypical omega activities, until Arthur threatened to poke his eye out with a sewing needle. Overall, though, they got along fine. Alfred, ever the optimist, even started to think that they were becoming friends. At the very least, it was a start.

* * *

The afternoon brought an event that Alfred had been nervously anticipating since it was announced: he was to meet the Royal Diamonds.

Out of all the Kingdoms, Diamonds seemed to be a decent choice. They had been allies of Spades for a fairly long time, and the meeting was only meant to strengthen the ties between the Kingdoms. There were no major problems to deal with or disagreements that could cause too much trouble, so it was a fairly safe choice.

On paper and politically, at least.

The Queen and Jack had taken it upon themselves to prepare the King for this meeting. Old alliances and agreements were great to know, but Alfred knew nothing of the Royals aside from their policy decisions.

The King, Alfred knew, was Francis.

"He's a dirty frog and a creep," Arthur warned. "Watch out for him. Don't be fooled by his pathetic appearance, he's actually quite manipulative." Alfred nodded, taking down notes.

"Oh, and he'll try to touch you, the perv. Can't keep his hands to himself." Alfred looked at Arthur in alarm; was Francis really that bad?

"Ignore him," Yao advised tiredly. "He and King Francis have a history and don't get along. Just be aware that Francis _is_ manipulative. He'll try to get the upper hand, so don't let yourself seem like a pushover." Alfred frowned as he took more notes. What sort of history could Arthur have with the King of Diamonds?

"Queen Lili is a quiet young omega," Arthur continued more calmly, reclaiming control of the conversation. "She's actually the youngest of the Royals. Very polite, but don't sign any papers she gives you without showing them to me or Yao first. And watch out for Vash."

"_Jack_ Vash," Yao cut in, "manages the military fund. He is very pro-defense. He will also shoot you if you look at Queen Lili for too long." Startled, Alfred looked up from his notes.

"Wait, what?"

Yao sighed. "He is Lili's beta protectorate. And he takes his job very seriously."

Arthur snorted. "Him being a beta protectorate doesn't matter at all. They're worthless to omegas. Just keep an eye out for his guns." Yao frowned but didn't comment, and Alfred felt like he was missing something. Before he could say anything, however, a guard hurried into the room and announced:

"The Royal Diamonds have arrived!"

* * *

Alfred stood nervously at attention as the carriage rolled to a stop. Next to him was Arthur, as stiff and formal as he was at any meeting, and on Arthur's other side was Yao. Neither of them seemed particularly nervous. The carriage doors opened, and out stepped an alpha that Alfred first thought was a woman. He had long, flowing hair, and was dressed in a flamboyant outfit usually reserved for noble women. His scruff of beard was the only way Alfred could tell that this was the (male) King.

King Francis flashed them a bright smile as he walked over. Behind him, a very young, fragile looking omega stepped carefully out of the carriage with the help of the beta behind her. The beta was fierce looking, scanning the area with a distrustful gaze. These were the Royal Diamonds.

"Bonjour!" King Francis called airily as he approached them. He nodded to Arthur and Yao. "Arthur, Jack Yao," he said politely before addressing Alfred. _Not Queen Arthur_, Alfred thought curiously.

"I take it you are King Alfred?" Francis asked with a wide grin, holding out his hand. Alfred shook it hesitantly. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty! Ah, and you look quite young, too. It's refreshing!" Francis laughed as Alfred put on a smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you too, King Francis," he said politely.

"Of course, of course! Oh, I suppose I should introduce you," Francis said, gesturing to the other Royals. "This is Queen Lili." Lili bowed slightly, face blank, and held out her hand.

"It is an honour to meet you, King Alfred," she said in an oddly emotionless tone. Alfred was unnerved; she reminded him of some sort of creepy doll. Regardless, he nodded in return and shook her hand.

"It's an honour to meet you, Queen Lili," he said. She blinked at him, nodded, and stepped back.

"And this is Jack Vash." The Jack nodded sharply at Alfred, scrutinizing him. He held out a hand and gave Alfred a strong military grip.

"It's good to meet you, Jack Vash," Alfred said as he realized Vash wasn't going to say anything.

"Right. It's a pleasure," Vash said gruffly before walking away.

With the introductions out of the way, Alfred led the group back to the castle. They sat down in a conference room at an oval table, Diamonds on one side and Spades on the other, each across from their own rank.

"So, how is Spades doing? I've heard you're quite the popular King," Francis said with a wink.

"Ha, I don't know about that, but Spades is doing well. How's your Kingdom?" Alfred asked politely.

"Great, wonderful." Francis seemed distracted, looking Alfred over with a calculating expression. After a few moments silence, Yao interrupted.

"I understand you wish to discuss our trade agreement," he said coolly. Francis glanced over at him and smiled.

"Yes, of course, always straight to business with you." He laughed again and pulled out some papers.

The next hour was spent discussing various treaties and agreements. Alfred thought it went fairly well; he held his own, at least. The Royal Diamonds were all… _unique_ people, but they were reasonable enough. The only thing that really bothered Alfred about the meeting was that Arthur hadn't spoken at all. He spoke plenty at meetings now, and Alfred knew the Queen had a lot he wanted to say at this meeting, but he just didn't. Queen Lili hadn't spoken much, but she still said some things. And Vash only spoke when they were discussing mutual border defense, while Yao spoke a lot. Maybe it just depended on the person, and not the position?

Either way, there wasn't much Alfred could do about it now. Later he might ask Arthur why he didn't say anything, but for now he had to entertain their guests.

It was during dinner, shortly before the Royal Diamonds left, that Francis approached Alfred.

"Alfred, may I have a word with you," he asked quietly. Alfred glanced around nervously. Yao was talking to Lili and Vash, and Arthur was nowhere to be seen. He tried to think of an excuse and, upon failing, agreed.

"Sure." Francis led him over to a corner of the room out of earshot of the others. He wasn't smiling brightly like he had been before, and he appeared rather hesitant for the first time that day.

"How is Arthur?" he asked after a short pause. Alfred was startled.

"Uh, he's fine," he said. Francis nodded, unconvinced. Once again he gave Alfred the uncomfortable impression that he was trying to stare into his soul.

"You seem like a very nice guy," he said finally, doubtfully.

"Thanks, you too," Alfred said with a tight grin. Francis didn't smile.

"Has Arthur told you about me?"

Alfred swallowed thickly. _Well that sounds very ominous_, he thought. "Well, Yao mentioned that you and Arthur have some sort of past."

Francis nodded thoughtfully. "Yes…" Seeming to have reached a conclusion, he snapped out of his daze and looked at Alfred meaningfully.

"I first met Arthur a year before he was chosen," he began. "He was a student, or an intern, or something, studying foreign policy and diplomacy in Diamonds. He started working there a few months before I was chosen." Francis glanced around the room, looking for eavesdroppers. Alfred looked around nervously as well. He got the feeling that Arthur wouldn't be too pleased to know what Francis was telling him.

"We've never really gotten along, for a variety of reasons. They don't really matter. We still spent enough time together, arguing and drinking. We would get drunk and cause mayhem, fool around a bit…" Francis' gaze became distant and Alfred felt the stirrings of what he would later recognize as jealousy. Alfred cleared his throat and Francis focused again, an odd urgency about him.

"The point is, Arthur has never been a normal omega. He's irritating and argumentative, and when he first came to me and told me his mark had filled in, I laughed." Alfred was startled to find something akin to regret cross Francis' face.

"He didn't want to be Queen. He was studying in Diamonds and he wanted to be a diplomat. Do you know how odd that is, Alfred?" Francis asked intently. "Whenever we'd get drunk, it was all he'd go on about. How he was going to _make_ something of his life, make it on his own as an omega. I thought it was a phase. We were both at that age, you know, a bit rebellious. I figured he'd grow out of it, find an alpha, settle down."

"When he showed me his mark, he asked for asylum. To be allowed to stay in Diamonds, under my Kingdom's protection. Even as King, you know, I had no power to do that. I told him I couldn't, and he yelled at me. Screamed at me. It was just like every other fight we'd ever had, until he started crying. And begging." He looked Alfred in the eye. "Arthur doesn't beg. You know this." Alfred nodded, feeling sick.

"He tried to hide his mark, but someone saw within a week. He was sent back to Spades, and crowned Queen. I didn't see him again until my next meeting with Spades and… he wasn't the same. Arthur… something inside him has broken. His fire had been smothered. He had always been fiery, you know, but now he is cold. I'd never seen him like that." It occurred to Alfred that Francis looked old. Burdened.

"He didn't speak once at that first meeting. To me or to anyone else. I haven't heard him speak at all since he left Diamonds, two years ago. I know he still blames me for what happened." Francis looked lost in thought again for a moment, and Alfred was terrified to consider what he could be thinking. Finally, he looked back at Alfred, expression clear once more.

"The reason I told you this, King Alfred, is because Arthur won't. Get him drunk and he might talk to you, but… there is nothing more I can do. My inaction has caused something terrible." Francis looked over Alfred's shoulder, and Alfred turned to see Arthur stroll back into the room.

"I don't know you at all," Francis said. Alfred turned back to face him and found him still watching Arthur wistfully. "But you are the King of Spades now." He looked Alfred in the eye again. "And whatever your intentions, I doubt you can hurt him much more than he already has been. You are young. Perhaps you are different. I hope you are."

Without another word, and ignoring Arthur's suspicious glances at the pair, King Francis wandered off. He looked as bright and lighthearted as he had been when Alfred first met him.

* * *

Alfred, Arthur, and Yao waved as the carriage carrying the Royal Diamonds rolled away. After their conversation, Francis had continued to mingle and chatter on happily. He had smiled easily and moved like he was lighter than the wind.

Alfred had watched the others from a distance. He wasn't sure he could put up a show as well as Francis. Through the rest of the evening, Francis' words spun in his head. A lot of it was stuff Alfred already knew, in terms of Arthur's personality. He hadn't known that Arthur wanted to be a diplomat, or that he had studied in Diamonds, but the rest wasn't really a surprise. It was just hearing it all at once like that seemed to solidify what Alfred already knew or suspected: Arthur had been mistreated. Horribly. By King Henry, and his own family, and the laws and culture that allowed and encouraged it.

But Francis was wrong about one thing. Arthur was always meant to be Queen. Alfred thought that Arthur was everything a Kingdom could ask for in a Queen: intelligent, passionate, clever, manipulative when he needed to be, and polite most of the time. It was the position that was wrong, and had always been wrong. The Queen wasn't meant to be a sex slave, bowing to the whims of the King. He was meant to be a great leader, loved and respected across the Kingdom!

Francis had done what vague suspicions hadn't. He'd lit a fire in Alfred, a burning dissatisfaction for the injustices and cruelties Arthur had been subjected to as an omega. Francis had exposed a rift between what Alfred believed was fair and what existed.

For Alfred, only one question remained: what could he do about it?

* * *

**A/N: Yay, Francis isn't a villain. Sorry if he seemed kind of preachy with his spiel. I always got the impression that when he wasn't being perverted or fighting with England, Francis tended to get super philosophical and deep. Like that Jeanne D'Arc episode.**

**Oh, also, note: a beta protectorate is a beta that protects an omega and caters to them (during heats and financially, etc) until the omega is mated. I might have made that up, or I might have read about it in some story somewhere that I can't remember at the moment. :(  
**


	6. Late Night Talks and Gardening

Words: 3294

Thank you guys so much for the reviews. I'm gonna keep writing this story, but I might go back and rewrite parts of the first chapter if I can figure out what to write without affecting the rest of the story.

Oh, and this is about half-way through the story, for anyone wondering about the length. I'll try to post the next chapter soon, but I'm gonna be really busy soon with school and such.

So, this chapter is bonding time! Finally, they start to get to know each other. This is my fluffy filler chapter before the overwrought yet quickly resolved angst.

* * *

Alfred decided that the first step to helping Arthur was getting to know him. In all honesty, it was long overdue seeing as they'd been married for over a month now.

And, truthfully, it wasn't a completely selfless desire on Alfred's part to want to know the frigid Queen. Sure, he wanted to help Arthur, but he also kind of just wanted a friend.

As King, Alfred was treated with a certain amount of… respect. A sort of fearful respect, where most were too afraid to speak their minds. Aside from that, almost everything in Alfred's life felt business-related nowadays. He had no time to relax or hang out with friends; he had no time to _make_ friends, in fact, which was a downside he hadn't really considered when he'd been chosen as King.

At any rate, Alfred had decided that Arthur was the perfect candidate for friendship. After all, he, Alfred, and Yao were pretty much equals. Yao was kind of a workaholic though, and didn't seem very interested in being friends with Alfred. Of course, neither did Arthur, but Alfred still felt he at least had a chance with him.

The first step to being friends, Alfred decided, was to find out more about Arthur's interests. He already knew that the Queen enjoyed cooking, embroidery, reading, and gardening. Alfred liked eating, but had no real interest in cooking. He also didn't know anything about embroidery or gardening, and didn't have much patience for reading. Since he had just witnessed some of Arthur's cooking, he decided to cross that one off the list. Out of the three remaining interests, Alfred unenthusiastically decided to start reading.

The castle library was a large, intimidating room with hundreds upon hundreds of books. By now the King had well traversed the geography section, out of necessity, and the physics section, out of genuine interest. Now, he wandered the unexplored aisles, scanning book titles. _What sort of thing would Arthur read?_

He figured he could have asked the librarian, but that felt kind of like a cop out. He was on a mission, after all. A couple wasted hours later, Alfred stumbled upon a section with a few books missing. The shelves throughout the library were stuffed with books, so he quickly deduced that someone must have taken them out of the library. Alfred looked at the section he was in, triumph quickly replaced by icy dread: _Magic & the Paranormal_.

_Alright, nothing to freak out about_, he thought. Honestly, the King had no idea why the library had such a section. He scanned some of the titles: 'A Complete Guide to Trolls,' 'Fairies and the Other Realm,' 'A Treatise on Unicorns'. Alfred frowned; he really wasn't interested in reading fairytales. After a bit more searching, however, the King discovered a book that at least sounded interesting: '_True Ghost Hauntings of the Spades Kingdom'_.

Several hours later, long after most of the castle had gone to bed, Alfred put the book back on the shelf carefully and headed towards his room. The long, dark hallways seemed to taunt him, images of ghosts dancing in his head. One unidentified creaking sound later, and Alfred burst into a sprint down the halls, in desperate search of another _living_ soul.

He soon found himself in front of the Queen's chambers.

* * *

Arthur was awoken by the sound of his bedroom door creaking open slowly. His sleep-clouded mind cleared quickly as he gripped his blankets tighter.

"…Arthur?" a small voice asked into the darkness. Arthur didn't say anything, paralyzed by fear and indecision. _He's changed his mind, he'd sick of waiting, he wants-_

"Arthur? Are you awake?" The Queen heard hesitant footsteps pad across the carpet as the bedroom door clicked shut. _Maybe if I pretend I'm asleep he'll leave me alone_, he thought.

"Arthur?" Alfred's voice was wavering slightly as he approached the Queen. Arthur screwed his eyes shut and attempted to control his breathing.

"If you're a ghost pretending to be Arthur, then I'm not buying it," Alfred said shakily. Arthur's eyes flew open in surprise. "A-And don't think I'm afraid of you or anything. I can still punch you, even if you are a ghost."

"A _ghost_?" Arthur asked incredulously. Alfred nearly jumped a foot in the air at Arthur's voice.

"Y-You're awake!?"

"Well I am _now_," Arthur said, familiar annoyance beginning to creep in. "It's sort of hard to sleep when someone's standing next to you accusing you of being dead." He saw the shadowy outline of the King bristle defensively.

"Well, you weren't answering! You could've been a ghost impersonating you!"

"Where the bloody hell did you get that idea?"

Alfred paused for a moment, shifting uncomfortably. "I… might have read a few ghost stories," he said, embarrassed.

"Ghost stories? Why?"

"Because I felt like it!" he said petulantly.

"Are you afraid of ghosts?" Arthur asked, amusement beginning to creep in. Just what sort of alpha was this?

"Of course I am! Ghosts are terrifying," the King said, "And the book said this castle's super haunted!"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "What do you want me to do about it?" he asked. Truthfully, he hadn't seen many ghosts around the castle. _The dead are the only ones that have escaped this prison. Why would they stick around?_

Alfred paused again as if considering something. "…Can I sleep with you tonight?" he asked, apparently swallowing his pride.

Arthur felt his hackles raise, once again on edge. The request was seemingly innocent enough, and technically he had no right to refuse the King's wishes. But he'd asked, and Arthur didn't really want to if he could help it.

"No. What good would that do?" he asked, fishing for a good excuse. "What do you expect me to do if ghosts show up?"

"I don't know!" Alfred said, distressed. "But at least if I'm sleeping with you I know _someone_ in the castle isn't a ghost."

"Just what sort of ghost stories have you been reading!?"

"C'mon, Artie! Please?" he pleaded.

"My names not _Artie_; it's Arthur."

"Please, Arthur?"

And, damn him, even in the darkness lit only by moonlight filtering in, Arthur could clearly see the puppy dog eyes Alfred was giving him. _Such a damn child_. He sighed.

"Fine," he said grudgingly, "But only because it would inconvenience me if you stayed up all night and were exhausted tomorrow."

"_Really!?_" Alfred's face lit up. "You're the best, Artie! Don't worry, if any ghosts do show up, I'll do my best to fight them off."

"What a relief," Arthur said sarcastically, turning away from Alfred as the King flopped onto the bed. They laid in silence for a few moments before Alfred spoke again.

"Arthur?"

"Hm?" Arthur asked, already dozing.

"What's your favourite colour?"

"…What?" Arthur heard Alfred shift, rolling to face him.

"You know, your favourite colour. Do you have one?"

Arthur thought for a moment, mostly about what a childish conversation this was. "Red," he said finally.

"Red? Really?" Alfred sounded surprised. "But that's Hearts' colour!"

"So? What's your favourite colour then, blue?" he asked, annoyed.

"Yeah," Alfred said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Arthur half-turned to look at him in disbelief.

"How cliché." He could practically hear Alfred pout. "Why are you asking about my favourite colour?" he asked curiously.

"To get to know you!" Alfred said brightly. Arthur frowned. "Me and my brother used have sleepovers all the time. Since we lived together, you know. It's easier to talk about things at night, isn't it?"

"No, it's not," Arthur said dismissively, unnerved by Alfred's interest in him. "And it doesn't count as a sleepover if you live together."

"Sure it does! What's your favourite flavor of ice cream?"

"Pardon?"

"Mine's chocolate. And sometimes strawberry."

"…Mint, I suppose."

Alfred laughed. "Really? Awesome, I thought you were gonna say something boring like vanilla."

Arthur bristled. "There's nothing wrong with vanilla."

"Sure, sure. What's your favourite food?"

"Scones."

"… Aren't you gonna ask me mine?"

"I assumed you would tell me regardless."

"… It's hamburgers."

"Of course it is," Arthur said, trying to hide the amusement in his voice. He absolutely refused to find his boy's antics cute.

Alfred thought for a few moments, then asked, "Hey, how old are you?"

Arthur frowned. It hadn't occurred to him that he didn't know Alfred's age. That seemed like a very simple fact he should've known. "I'm 23. And you?"

"19. You're old," Alfred said with a smirk. Arthur, surprised, let out a bark of laughter.

"I would hardly call that old."

"What's your favourite animal?"

"You do realize we have a meeting tomorrow."

"We should skip," Alfred said dismissively. Arthur snorted.

"Sure. You explain to Yao why we missed the meeting."

He heard Alfred huff in annoyance. "Whatever." After a few moments of silence, Alfred asked another question.

"Hey, you like gardening, right?" Arthur was surprised. This question seemed much more personal than the others.

"…Yes," he said cautiously.

"Did you plant the flowers in the garden?" Alfred asked, referring to the castle garden Arthur spent much of his time in.

"I planted some of them. Many were there before I came." Arthur hesitated for a moment. "If you'd like, I can show you around the garden tomorrow. I'm guessing no one bothered to give you a tour of _that_ area."

Gardens were simply seen as decorations to most, especially inside the castle. Alphas especially typically failed to appreciate the importance of gardens. Arthur had never given anyone a tour of what he now considered to be _his_ garden; but then, no one had shown interest before.

He expected Alfred to make up some excuse and decline. He had certainly not expected Alfred to beam at him with excitement. And he most definitely hadn't expected Alfred to suggest they tour the garden tomorrow, after the meeting.

Arthur thought the greatest surprise of all, though, was that he agreed.

* * *

Gardens were boring.

That was the extent Alfred had ever thought about gardens previously. Now, as he stood in the center of the castle garden, he tried to see what Arthur saw. To Alfred, the garden was cute. There were flowers of every shape, size, and colour. There were cobblestone walking paths and little water fountains and statues and figurines scattered throughout the garden. It was all very… charming. _I wonder if there's a playground around here_, Alfred thought hopefully. At least there were things to do at a playground.

The best part of the garden by far, in Alfred's opinion, was the Queen. Arthur glided through the garden, just as ethereal as ever, as though he were a part of it. He seemed perfectly at peace among the flowers, and the environment seemed to bend to his will, entirely compliant to the Queen. After spending so long surrounded by cold castle walls, there was something nearly magical about the garden. With Arthur there, at least.

"These are the flowers I planted," Arthur said, gesturing to a random plot of flowers.

"Yeah?" Alfred asked, examining the flowers. He couldn't tell them apart from the rest of the flowers in the garden, but he wasn't sure that he was supposed to, either.

"Yes. Although I also take care of the rest of the garden as well."

"Aren't there housekeepers for that?" Alfred asked with confusion. Arthur nodded.

"There are, but I prefer to take over the gardening. I enjoy it," he said simply. Alfred understood that, at least. It could get fairly boring in the castle with maids to do practically everything.

"Alfred, do you know the language of flowers?" Arthur asked randomly.

"Language of flowers?" Alfred asked with confusion. "What, like roses mean love?"

"Yes, that's probably the most well-known one," Arthur said with a half-smile. "Although for flowers as common as roses, it gets a bit more complex. Different numbers of roses and different colours mean different things."

"Oh. So, twelve red roses means love?"

"Yes. Red roses in general means romantic love. And one dozen roses is commonly used, but other numbers can have different meanings. For example, two roses means mutual affection while six speak of the need to be loved; then it's seven for infatuation, nine for eternal love; eleven to assure someone that they are truly and deeply loved, and fifteen to say sorry-"

"Those all sound the same," Alfred interrupted.

"Pardon?"

"They all mean love. I was right," Alfred said triumphantly. "Well, except for the sorry one, but all the rest are the same." Arthur frowned in irritation.

"They do not all mean the same thing. The differences are nuanced, though. I wouldn't expect an alpha like you to understand." Alfred pouted, and was ready to start arguing, when Arthur continued.

"The colours are a bit more straightforward in their differences. Red, as you said is romantic. Yellow roses represent friendship and joy, although in some places they mean jealousy. And pink roses mean admiration and sympathy or appreciation and gratitude, depending on the shade."

Alfred was nonplussed. This whole gardening interest was way more complicated than he had accounted for. "Do these flowers have meanings?" he asked, looking around the garden. He didn't see any roses.

"Hm? Oh, yes. Almost every flower has a meaning associated with it. Like this," he said, gesturing to a group of spiky white flowers. "Angrec. It means royalty."

"Yeah?" Alfred examined the flowers closely. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why does it mean royalty?"

"I don't know. I didn't come up with the meanings."

"Well, why doesn't that one," Alfred gestured to some purple flowers, "mean royalty?"

"A lot of these flowers have stories behind them. From mythology and the like," Arthur said dismissively. "I can't remember the exact story, but they all have their meanings for a reason."

"Okay. Seems kind of arbitrary, though," Alfred said, unconvinced. "What's this mean?" he asked, pointing to some drooping blue flowers hanging off a large stem.

"That's aconite. It means, er… misanthropy. Hate and mistrust."

Alfred blinked in surprise. That seemed kind of dark for some flowers. "Hate and mistrust? Really?" He scrutinized the flowers more closely. "Huh. They look nice enough."

"All flowers look nice," Arthur said with vague amusement.

"That's one of the ones you planted, right?" Alfred asked, continuing to look at the aconite in Arthur's section of the garden.

"Yes."

"What do all these other flowers mean?" he asked, pointing to the other flowers Arthur had planted. Arthur looked at them for a moment and began pointing.

"This is lavender, for devotion, silence, and caution. Lobelia, for malevolence. Marigolds, for pain and grief."

"Wait, those are marigolds?" Alfred interrupted. "I've heard of marigolds! They do not mean pain and grief."

"I assure you, they do," Arthur said. Alfred frowned. Marigolds sounded like the brightest flowers ever.

"Well, are there any flowers in here that aren't depressing?" he asked, discouraged.

"Of course," Arthur said immediately. "And many flowers, you know, have multiple meanings. Like this," he said, touching what looked like a fluffy blue flower. "Hydrangea. It can mean gratitude for being understood, or it can mean frigidity and heartlessness."

"No," Alfred said, deadpan.

"Excuse me?"

"No. Those are fluffy blue flowers. Who the hell looks at those and thinks 'frigidity and heartlessness'!?" he exclaimed in exasperation.

"Someone obviously did," Arthur said. At Alfred's downtrodden expression, he hurried to point to another flower. This one was bright yellow with red around the center. "This one is coreopsis." There were some gardening tools next to it, and the dirt was freshly laid. Alfred decided it must have been planted recently. "It means always cheerful," Arthur said with a clandestine glance towards Alfred.

"Always cheerful? Those are my new favorite flowers," Alfred said decidedly. Then he pointed at another bunch of flowers excitedly. "Hey, I recognize those!"

"Hm?" Arthur glanced to where Alfred was pointing. "Oh, yes, those are daffodils. They represent-"

"I swear to god, Arthur, if you're about to say they mean death and despair or something, I'm gonna-"

"They represent new beginnings. That's all," Arthur said with a small smile. Alfred breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh. Okay. You kinda ruined marigolds for me, but at least the daffodils are safe." He paused for a moment, looking around the garden before asking, "Hey, do all of these flowers have meaning then?"

"All of the ones in this garden do. Although, some flowers mean different things in different places. Like this," he pointed to some pinkish white flowers. "Anemone. It was a gift from Queen Kiku. In the Hearts Kingdom, he's says they mean truth and sincerity. In other places, they're seen as good luck charms, because fairies like to sleep in their petals." _Fairies like to sleep in their petals?_ Alfred didn't see anything particularly special about the petals, but what did he know about flowers and fairies?

"What do they mean here?" he asked.

"Here? They mean…" Arthur paused, hesitant. "Anticipation, fading hope, or despair."

"Fading hope and despair, of course," Alfred muttered under his breath unhappily. Louder, he said, "Where did you learn all of this anyway?"

Arthur paused again. "In school."

"School? What kind of school did you go to where you had to learn about flowers?"

"Royal school," Arthur said with what sounded like annoyance. "It was an omega class. One of the few I actually went to."

"What?" Alfred asked. How did Arthur get out of classes?

"I went to the classes that mattered," he said brusquely. "Most of the omega classes were shit. Things like homemaking and childrearing and such. Things I thought I wouldn't need," he said more quietly at the end.

"Huh." Alfred thought for a moment. Was this that rebel phase Francis and Arthur's brothers had mentioned? "So you just skipped them?"

"Some of them. I went to some classes. That's were I learned embroidery, along with sewing and knitting. I also took a lot of literature classes." Arthur smirked. "And I sneaked into some of the alpha classes, to learn things like economics and war strategy." Alfred smiled. He knew there was a reason he liked this omega. "The class on flowers was interesting, though. It was like learning a secret language."

"Secret?"

"Yes. Not many people know the language."

"But there's a whole class on it."

"True. But… maybe it's more like, only certain people know the language." Alfred gave him a confused look. "As I said," Arthur elaborated, "it was an omega class. The language of flowers is rather… subtle. There are so many different flowers, with so many different meanings, that entire conversations can be held with them. Historically, it allowed omegas to communicate to each other right under the noses of the alphas."

"Really?" Alfred asked, both nervous and intrigued. He didn't like the idea of people talking about him behind his back, but it was really interesting to think that a whole nature could have their own language.

"Really. Not many alphas consider it worth their time to notice such frivolous things as flowers."

"You can understand why," Alfred said with a slightly defensive chuckle. "This stuff is confusing as heck. So, do these flowers tell a story?" he asked, waving at the whole garden.

"What?"

"You said flowers could be used for conversations. And all these flowers mean something. Are they planted in a specific way? Do they tell a story?" he asked, thinking. _Devotion, silence, and caution; malevolence; pain and grief._ If they did it would be a fairly depressing story. But the last flowers planted meant always cheerful, so that was something. And there were the daffodils, for new beginnings.

Arthur paused, looking around his garden as if seeing it for the first time. "No," he said finally. "Sometimes flowers are just flowers. Sometimes they don't mean anything."

* * *

**A/N The next two chapters will be shorter, under 3000 words. It's Alfred's turn for character development! Sort of! I mean, there's still a lot of focus on Arthur, but it's hard when he's got such a tragic backstory and Alfred is so stupidly happy all the time. ****Oh, but after those chapters comes Arthur's heat o.O**


	7. Nightmares, and, A Meeting with Clubs

Words: 2764

Hey, sorry for the delay in posting. I moved into my college dorm on Saturday and class starts on Wednesday, so my schedule's a bit frantic right now. I'm also gonna post the next chapter in a few minutes.

In this chapter, Arthur isn't as happy as he thinks he should be, and Alfred meets Clubs for the first time.

* * *

_"We'll send 500 troops to the Hearts border. Spread them out among the border towns."_

_ "But Your Majesty, they've made no official declarations. Their border is unguarded. If send troops, we'll be the aggressor," Arthur argued. Henry's nostrils flared, angry at having been challenged._

_ "I didn't ask for your opinion, Queen." He turned back to the advisors. "Send 500 troops. Immediately." Despite knowing he was in dangerous territory, Arthur spoke up again._

_ "Sire, if I may. I could travel to Hearts to discuss the issue." Henry glared at him contemptuously._

_ "I haven't the time to travel for such frivolous matters," he said. _Obviously they're not frivolous if you're willing to send troops_, Arthur thought._

_ "I understand. I was offering to travel to Hearts alone."_

_ "Alone!? Are you insane? You're the Queen; you have no power over these issues. They'll never take you seriously." Arthur knew he should back of, quit while he was behind, because Henry already looked furious that he was being questioned by his Queen in front of all of his advisors._

_ "They will if you send a letter. You can make me a temporary diplomat," he suggested almost desperately._

_ Henry snorted. "A diplomat? Don't be stupid, Queen. You're to stay here."_

_ "But-"_

_ "Shut up." Arthur recognized the look in Henry's eyes and felt a shiver go down his spine. "Go to the bedroom. I'll deal with you later," he said, turning back to the advisors. "Send 500 troops. Tell me the moment anything changes. This meeting is dismissed."_

* * *

Weeks passed peacefully. The King and Queen grew steadily closer. They spent their free time wandering the garden, or chatting over tea, or playing board games that Alfred had found in an old closet when exploring. Everything they spoke of was light, meaningless, but it was conversation nonetheless. They didn't discuss their pasts or their families or anything, but still. It was a tentative friendship, but it was definitely something.

Alfred had come to generally enjoy being King. The heroism wasn't as direct as in the military, and it definitely didn't have as much action, but the King felt like he was able to really make a difference in his Kingdom in some aspects. And while he didn't have as many friends as he'd had in school and the military, he did have Arthur. It felt like a pretty sweet deal, all things considered.

For Arthur, life was… good. It was an uncomfortable feeling, contentment. Even before being crowned Queen, Arthur had always been driven by indignant anger and righteous rage, spurred on by a need to prove himself. Now, with the King listening to and respecting his opinions (and the nobles subsequently being forced to in order to remain on the King's good side), Arthur felt almost… happy. There were still many problems, of course, but they now felt even less intrusive than the problems most noble omegas dealt with. He was even (reluctantly) starting to warm up to King Alfred, trying to ignore the gnawing doubt in the back of his mind, eating at him.

For Arthur, life was fairly good. Except for one minor problem: the nightmares.

* * *

_"What are you doing here?"_

_ "Wh-Henry?"_

_ "You're not supposed to be in this meeting! Get out!"_

_ "What are you- where's Alfred?"_

_ "Alfred? What sort of nonsense are you going on about?"_

_ "King Alfred? Where is-" SMACK. Arthur's head spun to the right and he lost his balance, collapsing. He held his cheek, trying to ignore the pain in his neck._

_ "How dare you!? I am the only King you will ever address!"_

_ The hallway shifted. Now Arthur was kneeling on the bed, still holding his cheek. The King stood at the edge of the bed._

_ "Alfred?"_

_ "Were you expecting someone else? And it's King Alfred to you."_

_ Arthur stared, heart pounding in terror and ice filling his stomach. The man in front of him looked and sounded exactly like Alfred, with none of the cheerfulness and lightheartedness he had grown used to._

_ "Turn around," the King said._

_ "What?" Arthur asked, breathless and horrified._

_ "I said turn around!" The King grabbed Arthur by the wrist, pulling his hand from his cheek and forcibly turning him._

_ "What are you doing!?"_

_ "Shut up!"_

_ Suddenly, Arthur couldn't speak. He opened his mouth and no words came out. He buried his face in the blankets and tried to scream, but he made no sound. Pain stabbed through him, enveloping him. His struggles only angered the King._

_ "Stop! Stop!" He screamed into the pillow, or was it only in his head? The pain didn't stop. It never did._

_ "I can't breathe," he wheezed, gasping for another breath. The King's weight was on him, he couldn't move, couldn't do anything, the pressure was killing him, he was-_

Arthur's eyes flew open as he gasped for air.

He lay still for a few moments, waiting for the panic that seized him to pass.

The nightmares hadn't started until Alfred became King, simply because Arthur was usually too exhausted to dream before. But over the last month the nightmares had gotten worse and happened more frequently.

At first, they had just been memories. Bad memories, of all the times King Henry had hurt and demeaned him, made him feel trapped and worthless. Then they had gotten worse; dreams where Henry wasn't dead, when he was still King while Arthur remembered Alfred. Those had hurt terribly, to be given a taste of happiness only to have it wrenched away.

This was the first dream like this. Perhaps surprisingly, Alfred had never actually been in his dreams. And he had most certainly never attacked or hurt Arthur.

The Queen swallowed down the bile in his throat, tremors finally ceasing. He was covered in dry sweat, and his sheets were a mess. He felt like shit.

By now he was having nightmares almost every night. It was affecting his sleep, making him even more irritable and absentminded than usual, and it was making it difficult for him to concentrate on work.

Arthur hated it. He had no reason to be unhappy; not now. Everything was finally starting to go right for him and his own mind was trying to mess him up. He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He needed to get back to sleep. He needed to look presentable for the meeting with Clubs tomorrow.

* * *

The meeting with the Royal Clubs began just like the meeting with the Royal Diamonds had.

"King Ivan is unbalanced," Arthur said, pausing to allow Alfred to take down the notes. "He will be very friendly. Extremely friendly. Unnervingly friendly."

"Calm down, he's not that bad," Yao grumbled. "Just be polite and try not to get on his bad side."

"Now, the Queen is a beta and the Jack is an omega-"

"What?" Alfred asked startled. Arthur frowned.

"Didn't you know that?" he asked.

"Uh… maybe? I thought the Queen was always an omega."

Arthur's frown became a scowl. "Typically, yes. But Elizaveta has the Queen mark and Roderich has the Jack mark."

"It shows," Yao said. "Queen Elizaveta is the only one that gets things done. Jack Roderich is just a pain."

Arthur's eyes flashed dangerously, but he didn't argue with the Jack. "The Queen and the Jack have a bit of a… complicated relationship, so watch out for that."

Alfred nodded, putting his notes away as the carriage rolled up. Out stepped the tallest alpha Alfred had ever seen in his life.

King Ivan was wearing a long coat, a scarf, and a fur hat. He smiled serenely as he noticed the Spades King and began to idly make his way over. Upon reaching the King, and without saying a word, he leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.

Alfred recoiled in shock. "What are you doing!?"

Ivan blinked slowly and innocently. "I am greeting you," he said simply.

"You just tried to kiss me!"

"Da. It is my greeting."

"Who greets people by kissing them?" Alfred asked shakily.

"It is tradition," Ivan said with a bemused smile. They both ignored the slightly horrified looks Arthur and Yao were giving them. The Clubs Queen and Jack didn't seem to notice the commotion.

"That's kind of a messed up tradition." Alfred wasn't sure what it was but something about this alpha was irritating him. Maybe it was the way he had so easily managed to irritate Alfred while remaining calm himself. "You're really weird, you know that?"

Ivan's smile became a bit wider and a bit more menacing, eyes narrowing. "How do you greet people then, Alfred?"

Alfred's own eyes narrowed, recognizing the slight of not calling him King Alfred. He matched Ivan's smile. "I shake their hands."

"Then we shall shake, da?"

Ivan and Alfred shook hands, their arms trembling from the exertion of squeezing too hard, trying to get the other to wince. They held onto each other's arms, eyes locked in a staring contest, for several long moments before Yao cleared his throat.

"King Alfred, I would like to introduce you to Queen Elizaveta," he said pointedly. Alfred and Ivan dropped their hands at the same time, both smiling as though nothing were wrong.

"It's an honour to meet you, Queen Elizaveta," he said, perfectly politely, as he bowed slightly. Bowing was the traditional greeting of Royals, after all.

* * *

Arthur kept his mouth shut as Ivan and Alfred discussed the economy. It was like nothing he'd ever seen before.

"But I thought you preferred equality, Alfred," Ivan said innocently.

"I like equal _opportunity_, yeah," Alfred agreed amicably. "That way everyone gets what they earn."

"Hm, but then what about those that cannot work? Do they deserve to starve?"

"That's what welfare is for. And anyway, those are special cases."

"But welfare is the same thing, is it not? We decide what the people get. Everyone gets what they need."

"Yeah, that's great in theory. It doesn't work out so well when the King keeps all the resources for him and his friends and lets the people starve." The tension in the room grew steadily, the ice in each King's words growing with every sentence.

"What would you know about suffering, young King? You inherited a prosperous Kingdom."

"My Kingdom is prosperous because I don't regulate every aspect of my people's lives. They have freedom."

"They are driven by greed. Your people care nothing for their fellow men." Arthur saw Alfred's grip tighten on his papers in anger. It did not do well to insult the King's subjects.

"You care nothing for your people," he countered. "All you do is oppress them." Arthur could swear there was an aura of evil rolling off King Ivan in waves.

The two were locked in another staring contest. The remaining Royals in the room glanced at each other nervously. For a moment, they all seriously considered the possibility that they would be going to war.

Arthur felt sick. He looked at Alfred's face and saw an alpha. A domineering, terrifying alpha who was used to getting his way and would crush anyone who dared oppose him. An alpha that would (and _could_) easily start a war to just prove a point, and send thousands of people off to their deaths for that point. _"Were you expecting someone else? And it's King Alfred to you." _It was everything he'd been expecting and waiting for, since the day he learned Alfred was King. _I can't breathe._

He hated being proven right.

This time it was Elizaveta who cleared her throat, standing up. "If you two are going to spend the rest of the day in a dick-measuring contest, then I'm gonna go."

Alfred and Ivan both looked at her, startled. Then, Ivan giggled.

"I think we are done here, da?" he said. Alfred smiled brightly, a sick, twisted mockery of the smile Arthur usually saw.

"Looks like it! Too bad we couldn't reach an agreement, but I guess it's time for you to leave!"

"But what about dinner?" Yao asked worriedly. The Royal Clubs were supposed to stay for another hour and a half.

"Oh, that won't be necessary," Ivan said merrily. "I would not like to eat food bought by dirty money."

"That's alright," Alfred said, still smiling, "I'm sure they have enough of their people's food to eat at their place."

* * *

Arthur stood stiffly in the shadows while Yao and Alfred argued. Yao was extremely unhappy by the way the meeting went, and Alfred blamed Ivan entirely. The King still reeked of alpha pheromones. _Aggressive, impulsive, dangerous alpha_, Arthur's mind supplied helpfully. He had been proven right. He felt betrayed.

With the immediate danger out of the way, Arthur had slipped back into his numb, dreamlike state of dissociation. He wanted nothing more than for the day to end so that he could go back to bed and pretend this was just a nightmare.

He had no such luck.

Arthur stayed silent as he and Alfred walked in the direction of their chambers, Alfred ranting the whole way. It took five minutes of Alfred's angry chatter before he noticed that Arthur wasn't responding.

"What's with you?" he asked tiredly. Arthur didn't respond, didn't even look at him. It wasn't a conscious decision; it felt like something inside of Arthur was breaking, finally bursting, and he could do nothing but wait for it to happen.

"Arthur?" Alfred looked at him, slowing down. "Are you ignoring me?" Arthur continued staring at the ground a few metres ahead. Alfred got annoyed.

"Is this about the meeting? Come on, that Ivan guy was a total creep." Arthur still said nothing. By then, they had stopped walking.

"Hello? Arthur?" Alfred waved his hands in front of the Queen's face. "Are you seriously ignoring me? And you call me childish-"

"I'm not ignoring you," Arthur said quietly and emotionlessly, still staring blankly at the ground. "I just don't wish to talk to you right now."

"Why?" Alfred asked, confused by this response. Arthur didn't even seem angry. "Is it about that thing with Ivan?"

"Yes," Arthur said simply.

"But he was wrong!" Alfred argued petulantly.

"You were both wrong," Arthur said, a spark of… _something_ finally bubbling up in him. "You could've started a war."

"I wasn't gonna start a war!"

"But you _could_ have." _And I wouldn't have been able to do anything about it._

"So what? I wasn't going to. And even if I did, he would've deserved it. His people don't deserve to be treated like that!"

"Don't pretend to care about his people," Arthur said slowly, voice shaking with emotion.

"Excuse me!?"

"Don't pretend that was anything other than you and Ivan trying to prove which one of you was the stronger alpha."

"Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious!" Arthur snapped, finally staring Alfred in the eye with a burning rage. "You were completely out of control! Are you insane? Is this all just a game to you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"_You!_ You stupid- How dare you? Do you have _any_ idea how freaked out Yao was?" _How freaked out I was?_

"That was Ivan's fault!"

"_It wasn't Ivan's fault!_ It's _your_ fault! You're an alpha! I should've never expected anything better from an aggressive, volatile, _cruel_ alpha!"

"I'm not cruel!" Alfred protested, shock written across his face. "I'm a hero! I'm-" He was cut off by Arthur laughing, nearly hysterical.

"You're an alpha!"

"So what!?"

"So… I hate you!"

"What!?"

"I should've known! I should've… This was a bad idea. You're selfish and stupid. You're an awful King!" Arthur didn't even care about what he was saying anymore. He just wanted Alfred to hurt, hurt like he'd been hurt, hurt like an over-privileged alpha had never hurt in his life. He felt betrayed. He felt vindicated.

"I- How dare you!?" Alfred screamed, verging on tears. "How dare… I thought we were friends!"

"Friends! Grow up, Alfred! You're a King. Friendship doesn't exist in this castle. Affection dies in these walls. I don't know what you think you've been doing since you became King, but it has to stop. We aren't friends. We _can't_ be friends," he said, voice bordering on pleading. Arthur remembered his first impression of Alfred: that of an enthusiastic young man whose passion and joy for life had not been entirely drained. But the castle killed all hope and joy eventually. Arthur knew. He had seen it happen to himself. He had felt himself die slowly.

Alfred made some incomprehensible noises of shock and hurt. _Friendship doesn't exist in this castle._ He was alone.

"Fine," he said, voice shaking. "I get it."

Without another word, the King turned and walked down the hallway, entering his chambers and slamming the door shut.

* * *

**A/N: Eh, I'm not sure I really like how this chapter and the next are turning out. I'm not very good at the whole explicit emotions thing. Also, sorry if Arthur seemed kind of out of character here. His reaction was a bit extreme, but it was one of those straw-that-broke-the-camel's back type of scenarios. Just, tons of pent up frustration. Seriously. So much frustration.**

** I'm also hoping I didn't make Ivan seem like too much of a bad guy. I tried to explain the differences in his and Alfred's opinions (which ended up turning into a capitalism vs communism argument), but it's still kind of hard for me to not write him as evil when he's technically the antagonist, just because one of the protagonists doesn't like him. I hope I did okay with that. (Also, Yao was definitely holding his tongue during that conversation. He and Alfred get into arguments about the economy a lot.)**

**And in the next chapter, we find out that Alfred isn't as happy as he'd like to believe.**


	8. Alfred has a Breakdown

Words: 2060

So, this is my shortest chapter yet. Arthur rethinks his opinions and Alfred has a breakdown. Oh, and next chapter is Arthur's heat. Part 1. I'll try to post the it in a couple of days.

* * *

The next week passed slowly. For Arthur, the days dragged on unbearably. He and Alfred were barely on speaking terms, only communicating indirectly during meeting and the like. The Queen tended to his garden and drank his tea alone once again. Where he once found comfort in solitude, he now only felt loneliness. He had gotten exactly what he wanted, and he hated it, and he hated Alfred, and most of all he hated himself for not being able to hold on to anything good that happened to him and for not being able to let go of the past. When something seemed too good to be true, Arthur made sure it was.

And he hated himself for making Alfred upset. Alfred, the first person to show him any sort of care at all in the past several years. Arthur had lashed out at him, blamed him for everything bad that had happened to him in a misplaced sense of betrayal. Alfred had been the straw to break the camel's back, and Arthur had pushed away the one person that made him truly _happy_. He had hurt them both terribly.

Alfred stayed in his room during his free time now. Arthur hadn't even seen him chat with any of the maids or nobles; he was secluding himself. _Friendship doesn't exist in this castle. Affection dies in these walls._ Even if Alfred wasn't isolating himself in his room, it was doubtful many would approach him. The King now walked with a perfectly regal air; he nearly seemed to float, gliding across the ground without touching it. It was as if the world couldn't touch him, as if he was part of something far beyond mere earthly concerns. It made him cold and aloof, unbreakable and untouchable. It hurt Arthur to look at.

In some ways, Arthur was scared. The nightmares seemed to have stopped after his fallout with Alfred. It seemed there was no need for fear to haunt his dreams when they permeated his waking hours once again. Alfred was not cruel of course, but he was cold now, and Arthur knew first hand want went on inside the minds of those that were too distant. But where omegas imploded and allowed themselves to be destroyed from the inside, alphas had more of a tendency to explode and take all they could with them. Alfred didn't seem the type, but then he also hadn't seemed the type to just shut down like that.

Arthur felt like he was walking on eggshells again. The King was unhappy, and an unhappy King only ever spelled trouble. Whatever light had come into the castle since Alfred's arrival was gone, and Arthur felt he had only himself to blame.

* * *

It took just over a week for everything to come to a head.

The Queen, along with the Jack and a few top-level advisors, were waiting for the King to appear. While it wasn't exactly uncommon for the King to show up a few minutes late for a meeting, he was now twenty minutes late. And it was a lunch meeting, which he was never late for.

Arthur had offered to go and fetch him. He wasn't sure why he offered, seeing as he'd been avoiding the King for much of the past week, but some part of him was still a bit worried. Even if Alfred hated Arthur, Arthur couldn't bring himself to try to hate Alfred anymore. And Alfred's absence was only made all the more concerning by with the fact that he had been very much not himself lately.

He checked the King's chambers first, since that was the place Alfred had been spending most of his time lately. Arthur knocked on the door politely, listening for sounds on the other side. Then, all thoughts of politeness flew from his mind as he heard muffled sobbing through the door.

Arthur tried the knob and found it unlocked. He walked inside without a second thought and was shocked by what he saw. Sitting on the edge of the bed, hunched over and shaking with sobs, was the King.

Arthur walked towards him slowly, wary of startling him. Alfred obviously hadn't heard the knocking.

"Alfred?" he asked softly, as gently as he could. Alfred jumped in shock, staring at Arthur with wide, red-rimmed eyes.

"Wh-You- _What?_" he demanded angrily, turning his face in shame. Undeterred, Arthur sat carefully next to Alfred and patted his shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting manner. Alfred was still crying, struggling to get his breathing under control.

"What's wrong?" he asked, because he had no idea what else to say.

"Go away! I hate you!" Alfred cried, turning away. Arthur repressed a flinch, figuring he deserved that one.

"I'm not going to leave you here to cry," he said calmly.

"What do you care?" Alfred demanded. Arthur winced, suspicions confirmed. This was about their argument.

"I… I do care," he said slowly, painfully. He had never enjoyed admitting when he was wrong.

"Then go away! I- I don't-" Alfred hiccupped, voice hitching.

"Why don't you tell me what's wrong?"

Alfred said nothing for a few moments, still gasping, before blurting out "I hate this!"

"What?" Arthur asked, startled.

"I hate this," Alfred repeated. "I hate being King. I don't want to do this anymore."

"Alfred…" Arthur sighed, all too familiar with how Alfred was feeling at the moment. "You can't just not be King. You are the King."

"I don't care!" he wailed. "I don't want to. I didn't ask for this."

"None of us did," Arthur replied, a bit bitterly. "You're the King, Alfred, whether you like it or not."

"I can't," Alfred said miserably. "I can't _do_ this."

"What can't you do, Alfred?"

"I can't do this!" he said, the pitch of his voice rising in desperation, pleading for understanding. "I can't stay in this castle, with these walls, and, and everyone's so c-cold!" he stuttered.

"Wh-Come on, Alfred, surely it's not so bad?" Arthur could understand not wanting to be Royal, but Alfred was King. He could do whatever he wanted. Surely mere loneliness didn't warrant such distress.

"How do you do it?" Alfred asked despondently. "Everyone's so cold. And mean. They only care about themselves. I wanna go home." Arthur's heart wrenched at the all too familiar plea. He wished he could do something to change both of their situations.

"This is your home, Alfred," he said tenderly, trying to get Alfred to see reason. The boy was having an all-out panic attack.

"_No!_ No, it's… I can't, I can't, please," he begged desperately. Arthur could feel his heart breaking; such a happy person should never sound so wretched.

"Shh, shh," he said, rubbing Alfred's back in an awkward half-hug. It was all he could think to do. "It'll get better poppet, just breathe. Come on, you're alright."

"N-No. I can't do this again. I can't- I can't be alone again."

"What? What do you mean?" Arthur asked soothingly. He didn't know much about Alfred's past, so he didn't have any idea what _again_ was supposed to mean, but Arthur got the impression this was about more than just their fight. It felt like this had been building for awhile.

"I can't do this for the rest of my life. I hate this," Alfred repeated, trying to calm himself with a shuddering breath.

"It really isn't so bad, love," Arthur lied.

"Yes it is! You said so yourself! Af-fection dies in these walls. Everyone's so cold."

Perhaps it was the way Alfred said it, so abandoned and resigned, that caused Arthur to have a vision of a sad, lonely child. _Everybody wants to be loved_, he thought. He remembered when he first arrived at the castle, still clinging on to the last strand of hope that he'd find happiness within the cursed walls. But Arthur was used to disappointment; he'd had little hope to lose. Alfred's hope was killing him.

_Everyone's so cold._ Arthur knew that Alfred's position could be a bit… unforgiving. He was a wonderful King, in truth, but there would always be problems. Some he inherited, some he would cause, but he would be blamed for them all. Alfred had complained of the stress before, of course, of the demands people placed on him, of the feeling that all he could do was give without getting anything in return. Arthur hadn't thought much of it; the emotions of Royals were never considered in the running of a Kingdom, and the feelings weren't unexpected from someone in his position. But Alfred was still so young, even if it had seemed he had adapted well. He hadn't developed the coping mechanisms Arthur had yet.

_Affection dies in these walls._ Hearing those words echoed back to him hurt worse than Arthur had expected. "Alfred… I was wrong to say that," Arthur admitted, the pain of hurt pride mingling with his guilt. He wished he could think of something better to say. For all his love of literature, Arthur had never been very good with words when it mattered.

"But it's true!" Alfred exclaimed immediately, matter-of-factly.

Arthur thought for a moment. From the moment he saw him, he'd expected Alfred's joy and passion to chip away eventually. He had been waiting for it, even. But he'd never wished for it.

"It doesn't have to be," he said eventually. For a few moments they were silent, Alfred's distress having finally subsided enough for him to breath normally. Arthur still didn't move from his side.

"Why don't you want friends?" Alfred asked quietly. Arthur started, not expecting such a question.

"It's not that I… It's just never really worked out for me, I suppose," he said. Arthur knew he wasn't the easiest person to get along with, and his general mistrust of others made it easy for him to find comfort in solitude. He'd rarely ever longed for a friend.

But Alfred obviously had.

"You're a good person, Alfred. You shouldn't have to be alone." At Alfred's silence, Arthur continued. "I really am sorry for everything I said… I didn't mean any of it, really," he said sincerely, hoping Alfred would believe him.

"What about the part about friends?" Alfred asked after a moment of silence, still staring at the ground.

"Which part?"

"Where you said we can't be friends."

Arthur swallowed nervously. He still wasn't sure how well it would work; they had already sort of been friends when he'd gone and messed it all up. But… he liked Alfred. Alfred was a good person. It was getting harder for even Arthur to deny that with each day that passed.

And deep down, some part of him really didn't want to go back to being alone.

"I'm… not sure how good of a friend I can be," he admitted. "But, if you still want to try… it's sort of boring now, drinking tea by myself."

Alfred said nothing, but glanced at Arthur shyly, a shaky and uncertain smile gracing his face. "Yeah. I want to try."

They sat in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, Alfred finally relaxing and starting to lean on Arthur. It was an odd sort of warmth, one Arthur wasn't used to but thought he might enjoy.

"I should go tell the others to cancel the meeting. They've been waiting for us."

"The meeting? What time is it?" Alfred asked, glancing over at one of the ubiquitous clocks in the room. "Aw crap, I'm late for the meeting."

"It wasn't important. They'll get over it," Arthur said dismissively, moving to stand up.

"Where are you going?" Alfred asked, a hint of panic in his voice. Arthur looked at him, surprised by the reaction.

"To tell them we're not coming?"

"…Right," Alfred said, relaxing slightly. "Yeah."

Arthur thought for a moment. "…I can stay for a bit, if you want," he said. Not because he cared or anything, he just didn't want to deal with Yao at the moment.

Alfred nodded, relief obvious on his face. The King lay back on the bed, eyes closing in exhaustion. "Just 'till I fall asleep," he mumbled, already halfway there.

"Alright," Arthur said, sitting next to Alfred once more. He smiled softly as Alfred quickly drifted off. "I am sorry," he whispered once he was sure the King was asleep. He brushed Alfred's hair back from his face and kissed him gently on the forehead. All signs of stress and hurt melted from Alfred's expression, the only remnant of his breakdown the blotchy redness of his face. Arthur stayed a few more minutes, in case Alfred woke up, before making his way out of the bedroom and closing the door softly behind him.

**A/N I kept trying to rewrite this, but it's till kind of… I don't know. I think my biggest problem with it is how out of left field Alfred's meltdown seems. I had trouble finding places to hint at it earlier in the story, especially since so much of it was told from Arthur's POV and the during the bits with Alfred he was so overwhelmed by all the new things he was seeing that he wasn't really concentrating on that.**

** And, that's sort of the problem with Alfred. He's really good at convincing everyone, including himself, that he's completely fine. And his issue, with loneliness and neglect (to be addressed in future chapters) is the sort of problem that kind of sneaks into the spaces between action and activity without really being acknowledged or addressed. I feel like I'm explaining this awfully. But it did remind of this awesome fanfic I read, pretty much completely unrelated but it sort of shows the accumulation of stress and not having someone to fall back on for America. Here, I'll link it:**

** hetalia-kink. livejournal. com (slash) 22015.**

**html?thread=94114815#t94114815**

**In case FF breaks the link, it's called Guilty Parties Must Take Responsibility, and is actually a USUK hurt/comfort fic. I would highly recommend it. **


	9. Heat, Part One

Words: 3235

Thank you all so much for the reviews/follows/favorites! I've been so busy lately, I've barely been able to get to a computer, but my inbox was flooded with reviews :) I'm going to post this chapter and part two now, and then only a couple chapters left!

* * *

Maybe it was just bad timing that a mere three days after Alfred and Arthur started getting along again, Arthur went into heat.

It had only been a few months since Arthur met Alfred; a few months since his last heat, his failed conception, and his near execution. He was supposed to have a heat twice per year.

"Calm down, Arthur," Afonso said as Arthur paced his room, ignoring the makeshift nest in the corner. "This is fairly common. Your own heats have always been fairly irregular, after all."

"Shut up," Arthur said, voice laced with anxiety. He could feel it starting; in a few hours, he would be virtually helpless to control his own body. "I'm not ready. Give me something to stop it."

"We've had this conversation before. You know I can't do that."

"You have to!" he demanded, glaring at the doctor. "I'm not supposed to get it for three more months! This can't be healthy."

"Healthy or not, this is how it is," Afonso said sympathetically.

"Give me medicine. Heat suppressants, or something." Arthur had taken heat suppressants before becoming Queen, but the Queen wasn't allowed to take them. The Queen was meant to have heats and bear children.

"You know I can't do that. And even if I did, it wouldn't do anything. Your heat is starting, Arthur. There's nothing that's going to stop it."

"Shut UP! What sort of doctor are you!? You have to do _something_," Arthur pleaded. Afonso sighed, thinking.

"I can give you pheromone blockers," he said finally. "It should reduce the strength of the urges." The doctor knew one of Arthur's biggest problems with his heats was the loss of control.

"And what good will that do me when I'm- I can't do this," Arthur said abruptly. "Don't tell Alfred."

"What? Don't tell him what?"

"Don't tell him I'm going into heat," Arthur said. Afonso looked at him like he was crazy. "Just tell everyone I'm sick."

"Arthur… he's your mate. He's the King. Someone's going to tell him."

"Make something up then! Lie!" Arthur did not want to have sex, and he most certainly did not want to have sex with Alfred. He _liked_ Alfred. He didn't want to ruin whatever it was they had. And if they were going to have sex, he didn't want it to be because he was a heat-reduced mess and Alfred was a horny alpha.

"This wouldn't be so hard if you had just mated with him on your wedding night," Afonso said. Arthur froze in his tracks. He knew the situation had been suspicious, but nobody had mentioned it to him. How had Afonso found out?

"You were both dressed and the sheets were clean," Afonso explained with a hint of amusement. "Did you really expect the maids to buy it?"

"How did you find out?" Arthur demanded. "Did the maids tell you?"

"Of course they did," the doctor said dismissively. "I'm your doctor. It's important for me to know." Arthur blushed in embarrassment. He honestly didn't see why Afonso would need to know _that_ much detail about his sex life.

"Which means, you and the King haven't mated yet," he said with exasperation. "You knew that you would have to this eventually, Arthur."

"Yes, but not _now_," Arthur defended. "Not this soon. I'm not supposed to be going into heat yet!"

"I'm sorry," Afonso said sincerely. "Have you talked with the King about this yet?"

"Of course not!" Arthur snapped. "I was supposed to have more time!"

"You should talk to him now, then. Before your heat starts."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Absolutely not. Besides, there's nothing left to say."

"I have pheromone blockers for omegas and alphas. If you both take them…" Arthur knew what the doctor was hinting at. _You_ _might be able to get out of it._ The Queen knew better than to get his hopes up.

"It won't matter," he said, defeated. "He won't take them. Why would he?"

"He might, if you explain the situation." Logically, Arthur knew he should talk it out with Alfred. Alfred was not Henry. Alfred might listen to him. On the other hand, Arthur was filled with fear and panic that no amount of rationalization was going to fix.

"I'm… going to get ready," Arthur said, conceding. "You are dismissed."

Afonso nodded, knowing he wasn't going to get a thank you. He made a show of setting both bottles of pheromone blockers on the bedside table before nodding and walking out the door.

* * *

Dr. Afonso waited a few hours before he felt he could not delay it any longer. He found the King, eating some snacks and arguing with Yao over some finances.

"King Alfred, Jack Yao," he greeted, bowing slightly. "Can I have a word with you?" The King seemed surprised, but Yao was used to such interruptions from the doctor by now.

"Yeah, sure, what's up?" the King asked, gesturing towards a chair. Afonso sat down.

"It's about the Queen." He hurried to continue at Alfred's somewhat panicked expression. "He's going into heat."

"What!?" Yao demanded angrily. "He was just in heat! And he didn't give me any warning! I'll have to reschedule so many meetings," he said, exasperated.

"What? Wait… like, now?" Alfred asked, still looking a bit panicked.

"Yes," Afonso confirmed. "Your Majesty, I would like to take you to the Queen's chambers now, if possible." He knew Arthur would be uncomfortable, and the King was the only one that could do anything about it at the moment.

"His chambers? Wait-"

"Go, go," Yao said tiredly, waving Alfred off. "I've got this under control. He really likes to make my life difficult, I know it…"

"Your Majesty?" Afonso was alarmed to see the King had paled and seemed dazed.

"Uh. Yeah," he said shakily, standing up. "Right. Okay."

Afonso and the King walked in silence for a few minutes down the long corridors towards the chambers. Eventually, the doctor broke the silence.

"King Alfred, may I ask you a somewhat… personal question?" he asked uncertainly.

"Huh?" Alfred broke out of his thoughts, looking at Afonso with confusion. "Yeah, what is it?"

"Have you ever mated with an omega in heat before?"

Alfred blushed and shook his head before saying, "Uh, no. I haven't."

Afonso nodded. "Have you ever been around an omega in heat before?"

"Just my brother, Mattie."

Afonso nodded again, thinking about what to say. "I feel I should warn you then, Your Highness. Omegas in heat smell very differently than omegas not in heat, as I'm sure you know. But unrelated omegas also smell very differently than omegas that are related to you. The scent might be a bit… overwhelming."

Alfred swallowed nervously. "What should… is he okay? How is he?" he asked.

"The Queen is… well, to be frank, Arthur is not taking it very well. It's nothing personal," he said at Alfred's expression. "He just hasn't had the best experiences with this in the past," he said carefully. "Do you understand?"

Alfred swallowed again, anxiety rolling off him in waves. "Yeah, I…" He looked at the doctor as if searching for answers. "What do you think I should do? To make it easier?"

Afonso felt something inside of him loosen in relief. At least the King seemed to care. "The room is fully stocked with everything he might need. The best advice I can give you is just… listen to him. He's very stressed at the moment. Communication will be very important." The pair slowed to a stop as they reached the Queen's chambers. Alfred was staring at the door as though it were about to attack him.

"Oh and, one last thing, Your Highness," Afonso said, voice taking on an urgent edge. "I gave Arthur some pheromone blockers. He also has some for alphas. If the scent gets too overwhelming…"

Alfred blinked in surprise, and then nodded slowly. "They should last 4 to 6 hours. Take as needed," Afonso said professionally, bowing at the King.

"Thank you," Alfred said politely before turning to open the door.

* * *

The first thing Alfred noticed when he walked into the dimly lit room was the scent. It smelled like Arthur, but a thousand times stronger, and mixed with something else entirely.

Alfred had been the one to care for his brother during his heats. This smell was entirely different. Matthew hadn't smelled bad, really, but it hadn't been… _attractive_. The pheromones Matthew gave off during heat provoked instinctual feelings of protectiveness; a sort of big brother feeling taken to the extreme. But Arthur smelled amazing. Alfred wanted to bury himself in that scent and never let go. He felt lightheaded, lost in this dark room with the heat and scents and-

"Fuck off, Alfred," came a warning voice.

Alfred blinked hazily, staring down at the mess of blankets he recognized as a nest. He couldn't see Arthur, but he deduced the Queen was hiding somewhere within the quivering pile.

"Arthur?" he rasped. Huh. That was weird. When did his voice get raspy?

"I said fuck _off_," Arthur hissed, head popping out from the pile to glare daggers at Alfred. Alfred blinked at him owlishly for a few seconds, swaying slightly. _Oh god he's beautiful_, he thought.

"Uh… are you… Do you need anything?" he asked dumbly. He already knew that Arthur was attractive, albeit a bit unconventionally, but at the moment he looked like the most beautiful person Alfred had ever seen in his life.

"No," Arthur said sharply. "I don't. Fuck off."

_Oh god he's probably naked under there_, Alfred thought , a thrill of electricity running through him. He barely heard Arthur's words. He could barely hear his own thoughts.

"Yeah, uh… You smell really _good_, Artie," he said. Then he blinked, eyes focusing, as the sharp scent of fear spiked the air. Arthur was scared? For some reason, that made his heart hurt.

"Alfred. Go. Away," Arthur said loudly and clearly.

"Go…?" Alfred struggled to think, a burning craving igniting his skin. Arthur was scared? _The scent might be overwhelming._ Arthur, wrapped in warmth in the nest of blankets… _Listen to him. Communication is important._ He needed… Alfred needed… Arthur needed… _Pheromone blockers. If the scent gets overwhelming._

"Arthur?" He hated how he sounded, like a lost puppy.

"Go away Alfred. Go sit in the corner or something."

"But you're…"

"_Alfred_. Go away."

_Go away? I don't want to_. He felt like he was forgetting something important. "The doctor," he said, finally remembering. He struggled to get the words out in a way that made sense. "Said something about… pheromone blockers?"

"What?" Arthur asked, stunned.

"Do you want to have sex?" Alfred asked suddenly, because he didn't really think he could come up with a better way to say it. "I want to have sex. You smell _really_ good," he added.

"No, I do _not_ want to have sex." Another spike of fear, and Arthur was reaching for something, an arm appearing from the pile. The scent wafted from the blankets, consuming Alfred. _Mine mine, I want you, now now now-_

"Here, take these." Still rooted to his spot standing next to the nest, Alfred took a bottle of pills. _Mine, need, now, more more, NOW-_

"Take a pill, Alfred." _Take the pill and I'll be happy._ Alfred very much wanted to make Arthur happy. A shaking hand unscrewed the lid of the bottle, pills rattling within. He shook one out, popped it in his mouth. It was a chewing kind, tasted like mint.

"Now go sit over there, Alfred," Arthur said, pointing towards the wall.

"But-"

"_Now_."

_But there's not here you're here I want you so bad._ Alfred didn't understand. Could Arthur not smell it? Couldn't he feel it, the urgent burning _need_?

"Alfred, _please_, go away." There was a plea in his voice, a desperation, and Alfred felt he would do anything to get Arthur what he wanted. _Go away. He wants you to go away._

Numbly, Alfred went over to where Arthur had been pointing. Knees shaking, he slid to the ground. The wonderful scent, the frantic need, was fading fast. Slowly, slowly, his head cleared.

* * *

Arthur muffled a whine, as he pushed the toy further up himself, burying it in him. _Heats were never this bad before I was mated_, he thought bitterly.

He was trying to be quiet, trying to keep the moans and whimpers and shuffling blankets as quiet as possible, trying not to move so much. Alfred was sitting in the corner of the room, doing god knows what.

Arthur hadn't taken his pheromone blockers until Alfred took his. He hadn't expected the scent to be so overpowering. Since he'd been mated before and Alfred was still fully clothed, he'd been able to keep himself in check a bit better than Alfred had. Still, it had been hard, torn between the primal desire raging inside him and the paralyzing fear consuming him.

Fear had won out. Arthur wanted nothing more than for Alfred to leave, so that he could deal with his painful, miserable heat by himself. But he and Alfred were locked in the room together and there was nothing they could do about it.

He calmed slightly as the wave subsided, resting for a moment.

"Do you need anything?" Alfred asked quietly. It was obvious the blockers had kicked in; he now spoke calmly, almost sheepishly, fully aware of his surrounding again.

"No," Arthur said breathlessly, trying not to pant. "Just… stay over there. I should be done in a week."

"You want me to stay over here for the whole week?" Alfred asked incredulously.

"N-No. Do what you want. Just stay away from me," he said, wrapping himself securely in his blankets.

"…Okay. Do you need something to drink? Some water? Are you hungry?" Arthur blushed. Alphas were meant to provide such things during mated heats, of course, and there were maids ready to take Alfred's orders at any time during this ordeal, but still. Arthur wasn't used to being coddled. He wasn't so sure he liked it.

"I'm fine," he said. He had a few bottles of water by his nest already, and he didn't feel very hungry at the moment. Arthur wasn't sure what he would have said if he _was_ hungry or thirsty.

"Okay," Alfred said. They sat in silence for a few more seconds. "Well, if you need anything, I'll be over here," he said, lying down and facing the wall.

Arthur could tell that he was disappointed. He didn't smell angry at all, though, so Arthur couldn't tell what he was upset about. Was he disappointed that they hadn't had sex, or that Arthur had pushed him away so forcefully? Arthur tried to think about it, tried to figure out what to do, but he was exhausted. Warm in his nest, Arthur drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Arthur awoke groggily from a dreamless sleep. He looked at the clock; it was the middle of the night, 5 hours after his heat started. For a few minutes he did nothing, simply breathing in the comfort of his nest. There was no urgent desire at the moment, but a wave could happen at any time.

Sighing, he looked over at Alfred. The King was still lying down, facing the wall and apparently sleeping. Alfred shivered; while the room wasn't exactly cold, it couldn't be comfortable sleeping on the floor without a blanket.

Arthur watched him for a few moments. He really was a pitiful sight. Sighing, the Queen grabbed a blanket from his nest and moved toward Alfred, who was only a few feet away. He draped the blanket over him.

"I'm not doing this for you," he assured the sleeping King. "It would just be inconvenient for me if you got sick while I was like this."

Alfred didn't wake, but he did stir, pulling the blanket around his arms and burying his face in it. He inhaled deeply, relaxing visibly. Arthur could smell lust as it began to exude from him. _How often are we supposed to take those pheromone blockers again?_ he thought with a vague sense of worry. Now that he thought about it, Alfred was beginning to smell pretty good again.

Grabbing his bottle, Arthur read the instructions. _Take 1 pill every 4-6 hours as needed_. He frowned, checking Alfred's bottle; it had the same directions. _I should wake him up_, he thought, glancing once more at the King. Alfred was now sleeping peacefully, apparently comfortable.

He sighed. _I'm tired of worrying_. Finally, he took a pill from his bottle and chewed it, placing Alfred's bottle next to him. Hopefully he would be awake when Alfred woke up, and he could remind him to take a pill. Otherwise… Alfred hadn't seemed too out of control earlier, so hopefully it would be fine.

Laying once more in the safety of his nest, Arthur stared at the ceiling. He wasn't tired, but he didn't feel like doing much else either. He looked back over at Alfred, who was still snoozing.

_I'm going to have to mate him eventually_, he thought. _Unless he's willing to take these pheromone blockers and sit in a corner every time I'm like this for the rest of our lives_. It suddenly occurred to Arthur that Alfred very well might do that, for a while at least.

Arthur huffed in frustration. He didn't understand Alfred at all. _Do you need something to drink? Some water? Are you hungry?_ What kind of alpha was he? They hadn't even mated yet and he was already taking care of him. Some part of Arthur's mind reminded him that Alfred had an omega twin. Did that have something to do with it? Was it the environment Alfred grew up in, or did he accidentally get some of his brother's omega traits?

Did it matter?

Arthur had finally come to term with his feelings for Alfred in the last few days, after the end of their fight. What had been growing since that day in the kitchen, when Alfred not only ate Arthur's food but complimented it, was now being acknowledged. Arthur liked Alfred. A lot. In what he thought might be a love sort of way, but he didn't have much reference to compare his feelings to.

What Arthur didn't know was what Alfred thought. Oh, he had suspicions; no matter how desperately lonely he got, there had to be some other reason for Alfred to put up with Arthur. And he knew Alfred didn't particularly care about gardens or appreciate the art of embroidery or any of that. So why did he join Arthur, ask about his activities, day after day for weeks on end? That was going far beyond mere politeness or kindness.

Alfred was a decent human being. He respected Arthur, valued his opinions, honoured his wishes; that in itself was more kindness than Arthur could remember ever experiencing before. But he did more than that. He acted like he actually _cared_ about Arthur, as a person. It was almost as if he liked Arthur for who he was. It was utterly ridiculous, in Arthur's opinion.

_Still… maybe this won't be so bad_, he thought, rolling on his side. Sleep was beginning to claim him once more. _Tomorrow… just to get it over with… it won't be so bad, this time…_

He drifted off to sleep again.

* * *

**A/N: Pre-heat hormone changes (a sort of pre-PMS) played some role in Arthur's irritability when he lashed out at Alfred a couple chapters ago, but for the most part it was just built-up stress and sleep deprivation from the nightmares. Arthur's hormone changes also triggered some rut behavior in Alfred (although nobody realized it was a rut), which contributed to Alfred's behavior with Ivan. (Although most of it was just that he really doesn't like Ivan for some reason).**

**Also, there will be smut next chapter! Finally!**


	10. Heat, Part Two

Words: 4917

* * *

When Alfred first awoke, he was extremely confused and a little bit horny.

He was sleeping on the ground. Had he fallen off the bed? This wasn't his blanket. _What's that sme-_

_Oh._

Looking over, he found Arthur sleeping peacefully, wrapped up in blankets. He instantly decided it was the most adorable thing he had ever seen. The second thing Alfred noticed was the bottle of pills that had been placed next to him. He looked at it and then at the clock before popping another pill in his mouth.

_Arthur must have put this here_, he thought, screwing the cap back on the bottle. _He probably gave me this blanket as well_. Smiling softly, Alfred buried his face in the blanket. Even with the scent muted, it smelled amazing.

Alfred was filled with a restless energy. He was bored, unused to being cooped up inside of one room. He had no idea how he was going to make it though the week. Standing up, Alfred walked around the room and began investigating.

There were some books, most with really boring titles. Some he recognized as classics; others were non-fiction reference guides. There were a few cookbooks, and some books about magic and fairies. Alfred stopped looking at the books when he found one covered in symbols and written in a language he didn't recognize.

Sighing, Alfred wandered into the washroom. He was still in his work clothes from the previous day, but the only spare clothing he had been given was some sort of robe. Figuring he had nothing better to do, Alfred took a quick shower and changed into the robe. By the time he left the bathroom, Arthur was awake and sitting up in his nest, staring at him.

Alfred blushed; Arthur wasn't wearing a shirt or _anything_, and he looked so cuddly right then, wrapped up in all of his blankets. "Uh… you're awake," he said smartly. Arthur nodded, expression blank. Alfred really hoped he wouldn't yell at him about yesterday.

"Alfred," Arthur said, glancing down. "I need to talk with you." _Oh fuck I'm in trouble that's not good he's gonna divorce me-_

If Arthur noticed Alfred's spike of distress, he didn't say anything. "Okay," Alfred said carefully, moving closer to the nest. He stood there for a few seconds, not knowing how close he was allowed to get, before finally sitting by the edge of the nest. Arthur said nothing.

"Look… if this about yesterday, I'm really sorry about that," Alfred began, rushing to get his words out. "I just wasn't expecting that and I wasn't prepared or anything so I just-"

"Alfred," Arthur said, effectively shutting Alfred up. "It's fine. It's not about that." Arthur was still having trouble looking Alfred in the eye.

"I've been thinking," he began, seeming to have gathered his thoughts. "We're going to be stuck in here for the next week."

"Yeah," Alfred agreed when Arthur didn't continue. He had no idea where this was going.

"I… didn't expect to get my heat so soon," Arthur said, blushing slightly. "I wasn't really prepared but… like I said, I've been thinking…" Alfred nodded, still completely lost. Arthur frowned, growing irritated.

"I'm in heat," he said bluntly. "And I've been mated before. This is really uncomfortable, and a bit painful, and if you'd like to mate I'd be willing to." By the time he was finished Arthur was bright red, glaring at the blankets that were clenched tight in his fist. Alfred, barely able to comprehend what was going on, just stared at him. He'd seemed very adamant about not having sex yesterday.

"You… want to mate?" he asked, trying to keep the hopefulness out of his voice. "With me?"

"Yes," Arthur said in exasperation. "I-If you want to, that is." He had never wondered if an alpha wanted to have sex before, but Alfred was a very odd alpha.

"Yeah," Alfred said just a bit too eagerly. "I mean… yeah. If you want. That sounds… yeah."

"Alright," Arthur said with what was most definitely not relief. He had woken up to another wave while Alfred was in the shower. Now he was growing progressively more uncomfortable with a need that was no longer inhibited by a fear of rejection.

Impulsively, too impatient to wait for Alfred to make the first move, Arthur leaned forward and kissed him. Alfred froze for a moment in surprise before returning the kiss eagerly. It was like nothing Arthur had experienced before; he could feel Alfred smiling against his lips.

After several seconds of increasingly heated kissing, Arthur slid a hand into Alfred's robes, one hand running lightly down Alfred's chest while the other was tangled in Alfred's hair. It was exhilarating. Arthur had never been so daring before, but Alfred wasn't complaining. The King leaned into Arthur's touches, breathless sounds escaping him. Alfred had taken to half-holding Arthur, arms encircling him in a loose hug, hold careful as if Arthur was about to break. Arthur tried to feel insulted, but he was too wrapped up in the novelty of being held like he was the most precious thing in the world.

Eventually, urgency won out over passion and Arthur pulled back, panting. "Alfred…" He slid his hands further, resting on Alfred's thighs. Alfred was wearing boxers; Arthur was not. "Can we… now…" Arthur wasn't used to asking for such things. He wasn't used to truly _wanting_ it, even.

Alfred nodded unsteadily. "Yeah. How do you…?" His arms fell from Arthur's shoulders, thumbs hooking in the elastic of his boxers. Arthur understood the question: _How do you want to do this?_

"It doesn't matter," he said, placing his hands over Alfred's. For some reason, Alfred's excitement was mixed with an odd sense of nervousness. Was he shy? Was that normal?

"Here," Arthur said, pushing the robe so that it fell off Alfred's shoulders. "Just take off the boxers." Leaning back to give Alfred a bit more space, and himself a bit more breathing room, Arthur focused on controlling his desire. He was already hard, and he could see that Alfred was too, but Alfred still wasn't getting undressed. Arthur felt his irritation rise as quickly as his nervousness. What if Alfred had changed his mind? What if he really didn't want to do this? What if Arthur was so unattractive that he couldn't attract a mate even when in heat?

Alfred, meanwhile, was having a slight existential crisis. _Oh god, I'm gonna be naked. Oh god, Arthur's naked. Can I cover up with a blanket? Would that be weird? Is now a bad time to tell him I'm a virgin? God, I have no idea what I'm doing, this is really, really bad._

"Alfred? Are you going to undress?" Shaking aside his own worries, Arthur could still smell the desire radiating from Alfred. He had no idea what the problem was. Maybe he was just self-conscious.

"Y-Yeah…" Alfred said, finally pulling his boxers down. Blushing, he pulled a blanket over his lap.

Arthur wanted to be sensitive, but he had no idea what the problem was or what to say, and he wanted nothing more in that moment than to be as close to Alfred as physically possible. He leaned towards Alfred, hugging him, kissing his cheek, his lips, his neck. Alfred's eyes fluttered closed as he leaned into the kisses and soft gentle touches.

Alfred moaned, losing his coherency in the overwhelming sensations.

"Alfred," Arthur said, speaking into this neck. His hair tickled Alfred's face. "Please." He was sitting in Alfred's lap by now, grinding into him through the blanket. Alfred gasped, whimpering.

"Yeah," he said breathlessly, leaning forward. Arthur allowed himself to fall back, pulling Alfred on top of him. Alfred stared at him with wide eyes, entire focus on Arthur. A chill ran down Arthur's spine; Alfred wasn't looking at him as though he were a piece of meat and Alfred was a hungry wolf. He was looking at him as though he were a piece of art, a precious gem, something worth looking at.

Arthur figured it was the tamest kink in the history of kinks, but he had never felt so turned on in his life. He grabbed Alfred's hips, pulling them down onto him. Alfred started, apparently noticing for the first time that the blankets had fallen away.

"In me. Now," Arthur growled, trying to hold onto his restraint. At least he wasn't humping Alfred yet.

"Uh. Wh-" Alfred stared down at Arthur as if he were some sort of alien. "What do I- What do you-" Suddenly it clicked, and Arthur felt like a complete idiot for not having thought of it before.

"You're a virgin," he said, urgency subsiding for a moment in the face of astonishment. While it was expected that omegas would remain a virgin until they mated with the one person they would be with for the rest of their lives, alphas were allowed to have as many partners as they liked. In fact, it was almost encouraged for alphas to have multiple partners throughout their lifetime, a show of dominance of sorts. This caused problems when there was the same number of alphas as there were omegas.

Arthur thought Alfred might have blushed if all his blood wasn't in his cock. "N-No! Well… I mean, _technically_-"

"Have you ever mated with an omega in heat before?" he asked brusquely.

"No," Alfred said, not meeting his eye.

"Have you ever mated with an omega out of heat?"

"...No."

"Have you ever had sex with a beta or an alpha? Have you done anything like that at all?"

Alfred paused for a moment, thinking. "…I kissed this beta in elementary school once, but-"

"_Oh my god_," Arthur exclaimed, distressed. Was Alfred insane? He was going to waste his virginity on a used omega with trust issues? If it wasn't for his heat, Arthur was fairly certain his erection would have died of shame by then.

"Sorry!" Alfred said, voice squeaking, as he completely misinterpreted Arthur's reaction.

"Don't- just- Do you want to do this or not?" Arthur asked, tired of thinking.

"What? Sex?"

"No, I was thinking about having a cup of tea. Of course I meant sex!"

"Yeah!" Alfred blustered, embarrassed.

"Alright, then just…" Arthur tried to figure out what to do. Alfred had absolutely no experience at all, but as far as Arthur knew it was fairly difficult to _not_ enjoy sex as an alpha, so it wasn't like he could mess it up too badly. Besides, it was mostly intuition anyway. "Just do what I say. Alright?"

"Uh… yeah," Alfred said with a hint of relief. "Alright."

"Okay. Just…" Arthur lay back down on the blankets, spreading his legs on either side of Alfred. It wasn't the best position for this; Arthur had done that plenty of times, face down on his stomach with his hips in the air. It was easier for the alpha to see and was supposed to have the highest success rate for impregnation. But Arthur felt like being selfish; he wanted to see Alfred's face. Plus, it would be easier to guide him this way.

Adjusting Alfred's position so that he was lined up, Arthur gestured to the area of his body that Alfred was stubbornly refusing to look at. Alfred was nervous, and Arthur knew he would need to handle the situation delicately.

"See that hole? Put your dick in it." Okay, so maybe that wasn't the best way to say it, but it got the point across. Alfred let out a whine of embarrassment, eyes flitting back and forth between Arthur's face and his genitals.

"Wh-What about stretching?" he asked shakily. "Aren't you supposed to-"

"I already have," Arthur said impatiently, desire overriding his appreciation for Alfred's concern. "I've been in heat since yesterday. I've stretched plenty."

"But-" Alfred protested, shuffling anxiously.

"Alfred, I'm an omega in heat. There's very little you could do to physically hurt me right now. Here." Arthur reached down slowly, gently taking Alfred's penis in his hand. Alfred jerked in surprise, whimpering. For all his embarrassment, Alfred was still very hard.

Arthur guided Alfred slowly, easily finding his entrance and lining Alfred up. He felt like he was overheating, slick running down his thighs as his body demanded to be filled.

"Just, start pushing it in. Slowly."

Alfred nodded, taking his cock in his hand. Looking to Arthur for reassurance, he pushed in. Luckily, there was virtually no resistance from Arthur's heat-consumed body. He moved very slowly, only moving slightly faster when Arthur began rocking into him.

He was all the way in before he knew it, heat and pressure consuming him. In that moment, Alfred decided that sex was the best thing ever invented and he and Arthur should do it every day for the rest of their lives. The expression on Arthur's face suggested that he felt the same.

"Keep going," Arthur said tightly, grasping Alfred's hips.

Alfred pulled out slowly about halfway, keeping a careful hold on Arthur's hips. He then pushed back in. The sensation was overwhelming, a fire spreading throughout him. He wanted more, needed more, faster and faster and harder.

"A-Ah, Arthur," he moaned trying to control the speed of his thrusts.

"Faster," Arthur panted, face twisted in pleasure. "Come on Alfred, it's okay. Faster, please."

At that permission, Alfred began thrusting with enthusiasm. He leaned over Arthur, kissing his collarbone. He wanted to kiss Arthur's face and was disappointed to find he couldn't reach.

Arthur himself was tangled completely in Alfred, one hand wrapped around his back and the other tangled in his hair, pulling him closer and closer. He knew Alfred wouldn't last long, but that was okay; as long as he was filled, it would satisfy the craving just the same. Besides, they had time. Alfred would build up endurance; Arthur would teach him new positions. Already, it was the best sex Arthur ever had. It was like nothing he'd ever experienced before, Alfred, his alpha, as interested in Arthur's pleasure as his own. In some ways, it felt like he was having sex for the first time.

It was over before either of them were ready. Arthur arched into Alfred with a gasp as Alfred's knot formed. Alfred had practically collapsed on top of Arthur, muscles clenching and unclenching. It took a few seconds for him to come out of his daze.

"Arthur?" he asked hazily. Arthur, mind too full of blissful pleasure, didn't answer. "Are you okay?" Alfred, being a super virgin, had never knotted in anyone before. He hadn't knotted before at all, actually, since that only happened when mating with omegas in heat. It felt weird, a bizarre tight pressure where it shouldn't be. Now that the sex was fading from his mind, he wanted to pull out. Knotting was awkward, and he wasn't sure if he was hurting Arthur, but he was afraid to move and make it worse.

"Arthur?"

"Hmmm?" Arthur hummed, too warm with contentment to notice Alfred's distress.

"Are you alright?"

Blinking slowly, Arthur looked up at Alfred with vague confusion. "Yes. I'm-" Arthur paused, a thought striking him. "I'm… fine. I'm really, really fine. That was…" It was then that Arthur had a revelation: he wasn't just fine. He was _happy_. He'd had sex and he'd enjoyed it. Sex wasn't supposed to be enjoyable! Not for omegas, at least. But it was, and Alfred smelled wonderful, and Alfred was wonderful, and he was happy.

It was overwhelming. He began crying, not full-out sobs or anything, but more like silent tears streaming down his face as he smiled stupidly up at Alfred. Alfred, who did not seem at all comforted by Arthur's reaction.

"Arthur!?"

"I'm fine. I'm wonderful. I'm… You're wonderful," he said, a laugh escaping him.

"Are you okay? Why are you crying? Are you hurt?" Alfred had absolutely no idea what to do in this situation, but he was kind of hoping he could just write it off as heat hormones instead of admitting he had somehow managed to hurt Arthur.

"No, I'm-" Arthur cut himself off with another laugh, sniffling. He forced himself to calm down, managed to stop the crying, but he still had a stupidly large grin on his face. "I'm fine," he said softly, less hysterically. He lifted up a hand, cupping Alfred's face. Alfred was sweaty and still looked very worried, but to Arthur he looked like an angel.

"Really, Alfred. I'm great. That was great," he reassured Alfred, remembering that he had no past experiences to base this off of.

"Are you sure? I think it's almost done," he said, glancing down to where they were connected. "I should be able to pull out soon."

"How are you?" Arthur asked, considering. For all Alfred had worried about him, it was very easy for Arthur to forget that even as an alpha, it might not have been enjoyable for Alfred.

"What?" Alfred asked, distracted. "I'm fine." It seemed he also didn't realize that his feelings about it mattered.

"Did you enjoy it?" Arthur asked.

"Huh? Well, yeah. Of course, I mean," Alfred paused, looking down again. He gave a slight tug and was relieved to find he could pull out. Finally, he relaxed. "It was sex. Of course it was awesome." He smiled dopily at Arthur, who was pleased to find that he was sincere. Alfred then turned serious again. "But what about you? Was it okay? Are you-" Arthur cut him off, holding up a finger.

"I'm fine, Alfred." Seeing that he was about to protest, Arthur hurried to continue. "In fact, I would go so far as to say that that was the best sex I've ever had. And that's all I'll saying about it, because heaven knows your ego doesn't need to get any bigger." That, finally, seemed to convince Alfred. He smiled in relief and pure, uncontained happiness.

"If you'd like," Arthur said in an almost coy manner, "And if you're feeling up to it, I'm sure I'll be ready for another round in a few hours." Arthur smirked at Alfred, who looked torn between wondering if Arthur had lost his mind and celebrating like he'd just won the jackpot.

"Hell yeah!" he said, evidently choosing to celebrate. "I'm ready right now. And later. That was awesome!"

Arthur smiled, no trace of his earlier fears returning. As long as it was like this – as long as it was with Alfred – Arthur thought he would be up for sex any time of day. Not that there was a rush; they had their whole lives ahead of them. And for the first time in a long time, Arthur was looking forward to his future.

* * *

The rest of the week passed quickly, the couple engaged in activities that ranged from frenzied sex to languid cuddling and late-night talks. It was during the late-night talks that Arthur and Alfred learned about each other, more than they ever had before.

"Your dad seems like a total asshole," Alfred mentioned, remembering the wedding. Arthur had been talking about his birthday when his mark appeared. Since all of his brothers also had marks, it wasn't particularly surprising. It had astonished Arthur to learn that Alfred's own twin didn't have a mark.

"He is. Not as bad as my brothers though. At least, I used to think that," Arthur said, still not quite believing that his father had actually slapped him. He hadn't heard from his family at all since the wedding; not even indirectly, through the news or anything. Not that he'd bothered looking. The Queen wasn't quite sure if he was relieved or disappointed by the lack of contact.

"Really? I thought your brothers seemed kinda cool," Alfred said. Arthur frowned.

"Well they were to you, of course. You didn't grow up with them." Alfred still seemed dubious.

"Huh. Why don't you guys get along?"

"They're all alphas. I'm their little omega brother. It was a nightmare." Glancing at Alfred, he added, "We can't all have brothers like yours."

"Yeah, my brother's pretty great," he agreed, grinning. They lay in silence for a moment, thinking.

"So, do you have a mom?" Alfred asked.

"Yes," Arthur said coolly. "She's a beta. Not nearly as bad as my father, but she never really did anything about my brothers, either. I think she always wanted a beta. What about your parents?"

"Hm? Oh. My mom's an alpha and my dad's an omega," he said.

When he it was clear that he wasn't going to elaborate, Arthur asked, "What are they like?" He hadn't met either of them at the coronation or wedding, but he'd assumed they just had difficulties travelling or something.

"They're okay," Alfred said, shrugging halfheartedly. "They travel a lot, so I don't really see them much."

"Oh? What do they do for a living?" Arthur had a suspicion that Alfred wasn't telling him something, but he didn't really want to pry.

"Nothing," Alfred said simply. "They got a lot of money from my mom's parents. Inheritance, you know. But that's mostly gone now." He hesitated for a moment, as if considering whether to say something. Finally, he said, "They never really wanted kids. Me and Mattie were an accident. They didn't really change their plans much for us."

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked. Alfred seemed fairly upset talking about his parents. Arthur decided he wasn't very fond of them.

"I mean they started travelling again when Mattie and I were four. Left us alone in a house in the suburbs and asked a neighbor to check in with us. Then the neighbor moved away a couple years later and we pretty much had to raise ourselves. We wrote them letters, but they barely ever responded. We were lucky to see them once a year," Alfred said, voice more bitter than Arthur had ever heard from him.

"Alfred…" Arthur said painfully, unsure of what to say.

"It doesn't matter," Alfred said shortly. I haven't heard from them in years. For all I know, they're dead now." It was quiet for a moment, neither quite knowing what to say.

"I'm sorry," Arthur said quietly, running a hand through Alfred's hair. Alfred sighed in a mixture of sadness and contentment before relaxing against Arthur.

"Still not as bad as your family," he responded, unable to even comprehend how Arthur's father had been able to hit his own son. "What were you arguing about with your dad about anyway?"

"What, the day of the wedding?"

"Yeah," Alfred said, wondering just how often Arthur and his father argued.

Arthur was quiet for a long several seconds, and Alfred was starting to think he wasn't going to respond when he said, "He wanted to know what I'd done to kill King Henry."

"What!?" Alfred asked, astonished.

"He thought I'd used witchcraft. To kill Henry and save myself. He said I should've been executed." Arthur ignored the way Alfred was gaping at him in shock. Memories of the argument, so many months ago, resurfaced. _Do you have any idea how much you're hurting this family? We were almost out of this whole mess! You've ruined the family name._

"He said I made the family look bad, and it was making it harder for my brothers to get jobs. I was never really a model Queen," he said sardonically.

"You… You can't be serious," Alfred said shakily, finding his voice. Arthur laughed.

"I believe his exact words were 'If you really don't want to be Queen, then it should be easy enough to get yourself executed.'"

Alfred shuddered, feeling sick. He remembered that first conversation he'd had with Arthur, the day after he'd been named King. He remembered the horrible things Arthur said.

_Some drunken alphas beat me. What does it matter? _

_It's considered poor taste to keep the omega claimed by the previous King. Most Kings wish to have a fresh, virgin omega for their wedding night._

_You've been given a golden opportunity to get rid of the hated Queen._

Arthur had already thought all that before his father even said anything. Arthur had believed that. Alfred felt like killing anyone who'd caused Arthur to ever think that way.

Noticing his mate's distress, Arthur gave him a kiss on the forehead. "It's alright, love. It doesn't matter. Like you said, he's an asshole."

"That's not the point!" Alfred exclaimed. Arthur was alarmed at the tone of his voice, far more miserable than mere distress. "He's not allowed to say that to you! And you! All those things you said, when we met-" That had been so long ago. Had it really only been a few months? Alfred hadn't thought much of it, but in some ways it seemed Arthur really had changed a lot since Alfred first met him. Not just towards Alfred, but how he seemed as a person, too, in general. "Are you happy?" Alfred asked abruptly.

"What?" Arthur asked, startled. He turned to face Alfred, who still looked ridiculously concerned. _Are you happy?_ That was the ultimate question, wasn't it?

"Yes," Arthur said truthfully. He never thought he'd be able to say that, but it was true, wasn't it? He was happy here, lying next to Alfred in his nest, talking about everything and nothing. He was happy mating with Alfred and having sex. He was happy in his garden, especially when Alfred came, because even though he was infuriatingly dense and obnoxious he was also one of the few to appreciate Arthur's garden. He was happy chatting over tea, discussing the boring minutiae of everyday life. He was happy reading, and then freaking Alfred out with ghost stories.

Even more than that, he was happy at meetings. He spoke up now, and made his opinions heard once again. He was listened to, his advice respected. He tackled the challenges of running a country, and all the risks and rewards that came with it. For the first time since becoming Queen, he was proud of what he was doing with his life. He was happy with what his life had become.

He shifted now, laying across Alfred and looking down at him. "I'm very happy." _You've made me very happy._ As much as Arthur hated to think as much, he had been a damsel in distress, and Alfred his knight in shining armour. He had never wanted to be a victim, had refused to ever think of himself as one, but maybe for some it just couldn't be helped. Maybe some people just needed saving.

Arthur kissed Alfred again. Alfred relaxed, the shadows of sadness fading. Arthur remembered Alfred hiding in his bed afraid of ghosts. Alfred, asking for Arthur's advice because he didn't yet know how to be king and still needed help. Alfred, crying in his room because he lost the best friend he had in the castle. Maybe Alfred hadn't saved Arthur; maybe they had saved each other.

Another wave was coming, kisses becoming more heated. For the moment, nothing existed except for two souls joined together.

* * *

Arthur woke up the morning after his last day of heat alone. Irrational panic felt increasingly more rational as he failed to locate Alfred anywhere in the room. He wasn't even sure why he was panicking, because he knew Alfred wouldn't have left unless it was something important, but there was something terribly humiliating about being abandoned after a heat.

It was there, curled up in his mess of blankets and looking absolutely dejected, that Alfred found Arthur when he came out of the shower. Arthur stared at him with wide eyes, startled, before burying his face back in his blankets in mortification. He had just been in the shower. Of course.

Alfred walked over to the nest and sat down in it, not sure what was wrong with Arthur. Arthur refused to show his face.

"I don't want to go back to work," Alfred said eventually. Arthur snorted. "We should just stay in here forever. Do you think anyone would notice?" Finally lifting his head, Arthur looked at him dryly.

"Oh, just the whole Kingdom, maybe. And I doubt Yao would be very happy with this plan of yours."

"Yao isn't happy with any of my plans. I'm sure he'll get used to it."

Arthur laughed at that. "Sure. You suggest it to him."

Alfred pouted and then sighed. "Oh, well," he said. "At least we'll get to go outside again. I'm getting cabin fever stuck in here."

"How do you think I feel?" Arthur grumbled. "I have to come back here tonight."

"Dude, there like a million rooms in this castle. I think you should be able to find another place to sleep." Arthur hummed in consideration. "You could sleep in the joint chambers if you want," Alfred suggested.

"I don't know," Arthur said with forced calmness. "That room's kind of big for one person." Alfred blinked at him, wondering if Arthur was saying what he thought he was saying. "Although, if you read any more of those scary stories, it would be more convenient for us to sleep in that room."

"Y-Yeah," Alfred agreed, throat dry. "I mean, I kind of read those stories a lot though. And I'm sure you're really sick of this room, so…"

"Then, perhaps it'd be more suitable for us to just move there. Easier than going back and forth between rooms, at least."

"Yeah. That's a really, super great idea, actually. I was just about to suggest it."

"Sure you were," Arthur said, smiling. He could get used to this.

* * *

**A/N: I feel kind of bad about how the smut turned out. I'm not very good at smut, and I kind of prefer writing the emotional aspect of it. I hope it wasn't too bad.**

**Also, only a couple more chapters left! Next is sort-of a filler chapter, with some character development for Alfred.**


	11. Family Fun

Words: 1712

Ahhh, thank you all so much! I'm especially grateful for the reviews saying the smut was okay. I was kind of worried I was focusing _too_ much on the emotional side, ya know?

Anyway, I'm not really feeling for this chapter (which is why it's the shortest chapter of the story). I was kind of going back and forth about including it, but I decided, why not? It's a filler chapter though, and I'm gonna post the last chapter and epilogue now as well.

* * *

Another week passed by peacefully. It was almost hilarious how easily Arthur and Alfred fell back into routine, practically an image of domesticity. Even Yao was in better spirits now that he didn't have to shoulder the weight of the entire Kingdom by himself.

It was almost cliché then when, just over a week after Alfred and Arthur moved in together, Arthur got to meet Alfred's parents.

"Your Majesties," a guard said, out of breath and urgent, "There is a couple at the door demanding to see the King. They refuse to leave."

"Throw them out, then," Arthur said dismissively. It wasn't like such scenarios were particularly uncommon.

"Sir," the guard caught his breath, addressing Alfred, "They claim to be your parents."

Alfred froze. "What?" he asked, eyes wide. There was no way his parents had actually shown up. Not now.

"Would you like to see them, sir, or should I have them thrown out?"

Arthur was troubled to notice that Alfred had gone pale with shock. It didn't seem he would be able to form an answer anytime soon. "Take us to see them," Arthur said decisively. If they didn't check, he knew Alfred would be kicking himself for not knowing for sure.

The guard hesitated, glancing at the King, before nodding.

* * *

"Alfie!" the man said happily. He really did look like he was being reunited with a long-lost son.

"Oh, Alfred, there you are," the woman said with relief. "Would you please tell these people to back off? It's really becoming quite irritating.

"Mom? Dad?" Alfred walked slowly, unsteadily, as if he were in a dream.

"Aren't you going to invite us in, Alfred? It's been so long," she said, walking forward.

"Uh, yeah. Right. Um," snapping out of it, Alfred turned to address the guards. "It's alright, guys. They're fine." Turning back to his parents, he said, "What are you two doing here? I didn't know you were in town."

"We just got back a few days ago," his father said warmly, the pair walking in like they were at home. "So we just found out you were chosen to be King. Congratulations!" he said, hugging his son. Alfred stiffened, surprised, before returning the hug gingerly.

"Thanks," he said uncertainly. "I was actually chosen a few months ago. Where have you been?" It was a loaded question that was deflected easily.

"We we've been around," his mother said, waving her hand vaguely. "Travelling, you know."

"Right," Alfred said, deflating slightly. "Oh!" He turned to Arthur. "Mom, Dad, I'd like you to meet Arthur. He's the Queen," he said, oddly proud, as if Arthur had done something to earn such a prestigious title.

Alfred's parents greeted him with wide, forced smiles. It was a look Arthur was familiar with. Either they, like much of the Kingdom, weren't particularly fond of the Queen, or they only cared about seeing Alfred. Arthur wouldn't blame them much for either.

"Pleasure," he said glibly, shaking their hands in turn. He felt like an intruder in a reunion that wasn't supposed to happen.

"So, do you want to stay for dinner?" Alfred asked awkwardly, clearly unable to think of anything better to say.

* * *

The four of them sat in an uncomfortable silence that was broken only by the clinking of silverware. Alfred, out of nervous habit, somehow ate even more quickly than he usually did. This only served to leave him fidgeting in his seat while Arthur was still picking at his food and his parents were too absorbed in eat to hold a conversation.

"So," he said finally, breaking the painful silence. "What brings you two back to Spades? Taking a break from travelling?"

"Oh, no," his father said cheerily. "We were just passing through. We actually wanted to see you. Went to your military base and everything before we found out you moved here."

"Really?" Alfred asked, astonishment unmistakably tinged with hope.

"Yes. It really has been too long," his mother said.

"Well, you know you could have come visited whenever," Alfred said, slightly strained. "Did you visit Matthew, too?"

"Matthew?" his father asked blankly.

"Yeah. You know, your other son," he said disparagingly.

"Of course we know who Matthew is, don't be rude," his mother said shortly. "And we were planning to see him after we visited you."

"Yeah. Okay," Alfred said, clearly skeptical. "What are you two doing here?"

"Is it really so hard to believe we just came for a visit?" his father asked.

"Yes," he said curtly.

"Alfred Jones! Don't talk to your father that way!"

"We need money," his father interrupted. For a moment, no one said anything, the air permeated with shocked silence. Then, his mother sighed.

"What?" his father asked. Arthur could see where Alfred got his inability to read the atmosphere from.

"You couldn't just stick to the plan?" his mother said irritably.

"He wasn't buying it!"

"What do you mean, you need money?" Alfred interrupted.

"Your Grandparents' inheritance ran out," his mother said. "And you sold our house, so we need a place to stay."

Alfred gaped at her. "I didn't sell it! It was foreclosed, because _you_ didn't pay the bills!"

"Are you going to help us or not?" she asked coldly. _What wretched people_, Arthur thought.

"Are you serious?"

"We're your parents," his father said. "You're not really gonna leave us to fend for ourselves, are you?"

Alfred said nothing for a minute, seething in hurt and anger. Finally, matching his mother's dismissive tone, he said, "You can have the money I was using to pay for the military. I don't need it now."

"We already used that," his mother said immediately.

Alfred stared at her. "You _what_!?"

"It wasn't like you needed it anyway."

"I was paying for food! And shelter! Of course I needed it!" Alfred shouted, shocked. How had they taken his money without him even noticing? Were they taking a little at a time? Which accounts did they have access to?

"Oh, calm down. We didn't take the last of it until you became King."

"Wh-How long have you known I'm King!?"

"Does it matter?" she asked tiredly.

Alfred was quiet for a moment before asking, "Have you been taking Matthew's money?"

"Of course not," his father said defensively.

"He's still in school, you know."

"We didn't take any of his money," his mother said.

"Because you didn't remember him," Alfred said, resigned.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Alfred," his mother said. _Don't be so dramatic_, the words of Arthur's father echoed in his head from so many months ago. _How dare they talk to him that way_, he thought.

Unlike Arthur, Alfred didn't lash out. He said nothing for a long moment, atmosphere tense and gaze icy. Finally, he said, "I can give you 500 marks. You can stay the night." He then turned to leave.

"Five hundred marks!?" his mother exclaimed, outraged. "That'll hardly last a month!"

"Then get a job," he said unsympathetically.

"How dare you? I didn't raise you to be this cruel!"

"You didn't raise me at all!" Alfred said, spinning around. The ice in his gaze was replaced with a fire fueled by years of neglect and resentment. _Don't be so dramatic!? Shut up! How dare you? You vile piece of- SLAP! _Arthur stood up abruptly, derailing this argument.

"Enough," he said, with years of mastered coldness. "Dinner is over."

Alfred seemed to snap out of it, giving Arthur an unreadable look as he collected himself. "You can stay the night," he said. "Leave in the morning. Don't come back, don't look for me, and don't visit Matthew."

"You're the King," his mother said. "You're the King, and all you're willing to give your parents is a measly 500 marks?"

"Yes," he said without hesitation. "I'm going to bed. Show them to a guest room," he told a nearby guard. With that, he left.

"He really is a great man, you know," Arthur said conversationally, looking at the hall Alfred had disappeared down. He turned to look at Alfred's parents one last time. "He could have given you so much more than money. And you wouldn't have deserved any of it." Before they could respond, Arthur began walking briskly down the hall towards Alfred.

* * *

Arthur sat carefully on the bed next to Alfred. Alfred was hunched over, face in his hands. The Queen couldn't tell if he was crying or not. He was reminded of a similar situation from just a couple weeks ago.

"I can't believe I'm throwing my own parents out on the street," Alfred said painfully, still not looking up.

"You gave them a place to stay for the night and enough money for a hotel room." _And that was far more than they deserved_, Arthur thought.

"But they're my _parents_," Alfred groaned, lifting his head to stare at the ceiling. "And they're right. I _am_ King. I could've-"

"You could've done a lot," Arthur interrupted. "You could have given them all the money they could ever need. Or you could've thrown them in jail. I'll admit, I was hoping for the latter." Arthur felt the weight in his chest lift slightly at Alfred's half-smile. "Besides, I personally think there are a lot better uses of the Kingdom's money than wasting it on those ungrateful pikeys."

Alfred sighed. "Yeah, I know. I just… I can't believe them!"

"They certainly have a lot of nerve," Arthur agreed."

"Ugh. I'll need to write Matthew, tell him to check his bank account."

They sat in comfortable, if slightly melancholic silence. "You know," Arthur said finally, gathering his courage. He never really was good at compliments. "They really don't deserve you." Alfred chuckled, an oddly self-depreciative sound coming from him.

"I'm serious! I don't know how two prats like that managed to produce something like you." Alfred's face softened, stress lines finally fading.

"You flatter me, Artie. And you know, you didn't come out too bad yourself, all things considered," he said. Arthur's blush deepened as Alfred kissed him on the cheek. He then reciprocated with a kiss to Alfred's forehead.

The rest of the night passed calmly, each monarch finding quiet comfort in the other's presence. Eventually, Alfred fell asleep, head resting on Arthur's chest and a hand carding through his hair.

* * *

**A/N Finally, more outside conflict! Like I said, I wasn't really sure whether to include this one, but I wanted a chapter after Arthur and Alfred finally truly together. This is the first time they're fully, completely, unequivocally standing together. I'm not sure it really flows very well, but I tried.  
**


	12. Apotheosis

Words: 2911

So, this is the last real chapter. Next is the epilogue. This chapter has feelings!

* * *

"I have a doctor appointment today," Arthur mentioned offhandedly.

"What?" Alfred asked, startled. "Are you sick?"

"No," he said, slightly annoyed. "Are you coming with me or not?"

"Am I supposed to?"

"It's on your schedule."

Alfred pulled out his agenda, checking the date. _Artie- Dctr appt._ "Oh. Why do you have a doctor's appointment?"

"It's to find out if the mating was successful," Arthur said, not meeting Alfred's eye. Alfred stared at him blankly.

"It's to see if I'm pregnant, idiot," he snapped.

"O-Oh!" Alfred exclaimed, blushing slightly. He'd forgotten about that part of mating. "Oh, right, that's- Is that today?"

"Yes," Arthur said sullenly. "It's been two weeks since my heat ended, so…"

"Right. Yeah. Uh, okay."

"Are you coming to the doctor's with me or not?" Arthur asked exasperatedly.

"What? Yeah! Of course!" Alfred said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. In a way, it kind of was. The King was supposed to be the first to know (after the doctor) if the Queen was pregnant.

"Fine," Arthur said, not sounding particularly pleased with the answer.

* * *

Alfred's leg bounced nervously as he waited with Arthur for the doctor to show up. Arthur had been extremely quiet all day, and cold in a way that Alfred hadn't seen in months. It was unnerving and a bit terrifying.

The worst part was, Alfred wasn't sure what to say. He didn't even know what Arthur was hoping for with this. Traditionally, of course, the Queen would want to be pregnant and the King would want an heir. But Alfred had never really thought about kids before. Not seriously, anyway. It went back to his ideal plan: fall in love, get married, have a family. That was the most thought he'd ever put into it. He figured it was okay, then, to start a family now that he had the first two items checked off of his list. But Alfred had no idea how to raise a kid, and the thought of it kind of terrified him.

And then there was Arthur. Did Arthur want a kid? Was he hoping he was pregnant? Alfred was too nervous to ask, Arthur's unapproachable vibes even scaring him for once. Did Arthur think Alfred wanted a kid? Did Alfred want a kid? Alfred remembered the Arthur's near execution, the Queens that died for not getting pregnant. Was Arthur worried about that? He knew Alfred wasn't like that, right?

"Good afternoon, Your Majesties, sorry I'm late," Doctor Afonso said, flustered. "I was getting the machines set up, and there was- oh, never mind. Are you ready, Arthur?"

"Yes," Arthur said calmly, standing up to follow the doctor.

Alfred was left to wait.

* * *

Arthur felt like he was going to be sick.

_ "I'm sorry, Your Majesty," Afonso said tiredly._

_ "What?" Arthur asked, shocked._

_ "He's not pregnant? Again!?"_

_ "I'm afraid not."_

_ "Is he infertile?"_

_ "I'm not sure. I-"_

_ "It's been two years!" Henry turned on Arthur accusingly. "How are you not pregnant?"_

_ "I don't know! I thought-"_

_ "I don't care what you thought! You-" In an instant, Henry's anger seemed to vanish, replaced by cold hatred. It was a thousand times more terrifying than his wrath. "Fine," he said._

_ "…King Henry?" Arthur asked nervously._

_ "I have business to attend to," Henry said, walking away without another word. Arthur was left with a horrible sinking feeling in his chest._

_ The next day, the Queen was arrested for treason and sentenced to death._

Alfred wasn't Henry. Arthur knew that. But that didn't make the memories any less horrifying or the feat any less real. He lay down on the examination table, letting his mind wander. Afonso didn't bother trying to start a conversation. He knew Arthur wasn't in the mood.

Arthur felt he was in a lose-lose situation. He didn't want to be pregnant, but he couldn't afford to not be. It wasn't that Arthur didn't want kids; he actually loved kids, much to his chagrin. It was a horribly cliché omega trait, but it was part of Arthur's personality. What he did _not_ love was the idea of being pregnant. Especially now, when he was actually allowed to do things as Queen. He did not want to deal with the pain and difficulties of pregnancy and he'd never planned to become pregnant before becoming Queen.

Now, it was his duty. One of his primary responsibilities as Queen was to bear the King an heir. It didn't matter that the child was in no way guaranteed to be next in line for the throne; it was tradition. And in any case, Arthur was sick of failing at this. He was finally in a loving relationship. There was not reason for him _not_ to be pregnant, right?

"Alright, that's it," Afonso said, breaking Arthur out of his reverie. "I should have the results in a few minutes." Arthur stood to go back to the waiting room when Afonso interrupted. "Arthur? I… have this new test in. Something that they've been developing over in Hearts, and it seems to be accurate…"

"What is it?" Arthur asked curtly. Afonso took a deep breath.

"It's a fertility test." Arthur stared at him. "The science is sound; it works. You don't have to take it, but if you want to… You can know for sure," he said carefully.

Arthur continued to stare at him for a long moment, thinking. Did he want to know? Not if he was infertile. But what if he was? What if he was stuck doing this for the rest of his life, trying to become pregnant only to be let down every time? He could know for sure. Did he want to?

Finally, he nodded. He was going to take a fertility test.

* * *

Alfred and Arthur waited in tense silence. For Alfred, it was even worse than waiting alone. He still had no idea what to say, and Arthur only seemed to be in a worse mood since he came out of the doctor's office. It was the longest fifteen minute wait of their lives.

"I have the results," Afonso said, voice carefully neutral. Then he looked down. "I'm sorry. Arthur's not pregnant."

_Sorry. So Arthur wanted to be pregnant?_ Alfred thought, rubbing Arthur's back in what he hopes was a conciliatory manner. Arthur only tensed more.

Before Alfred could say anything, Arthur said, "And the fertility test?" The doctor seemed surprised by Arthur's question.

"Er-" he paused, turning to address the King. "Arthur also took a fertility test, to see about his ability to become pregnant in the future. It-" he turned back to Arthur nervously. "It wasn't… I'm sorry, Arthur. You're infertile."

Arthur stood up abruptly. "_What?_" he demanded, voice cracking.

"I'm sorry," Afonso repeated. "It will be very difficult for you to have children, if it's possible at all."

Alfred stood as well, watching Arthur warily. The Queen seemed shocked, eyes unfocused. Alfred was afraid of startling him.

"Arthur," he began, but that was all it took. Arthur spun on his heel and was running down the hall before Alfred even had time to blink. "Arthur!?" he called, shocked, before starting after him.

"Wait," Afonso said, grabbing the King's arm. It was entirely inappropriate, but he didn't know what else to do. "Your Majesty-"

"Why's he freaking out!?" Alfred demanded, rounding on the doctor. Out of all of Arthur's possible reactions, he hadn't expected this. "Is this about the last King? He knows I'm not like that!"

"I know," the doctor said in a placating manner. "But King Alfred, you have to understand, infertile omegas aren't chosen as Queen," he said more urgently.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know what happened," Afonso said. "It could be stress, or the way he was treated before, but something damaged Arthur's reproductive organs to make him unable to reproduce. No Queen has been thought to be infertile and stayed Queen."

"What about the Queens before Arthur? The ones that were executed?"

"Henry suspected they were infertile, but it always seemed more likely that it was the King himself who couldn't bear heirs." Afonso sighed. "The Queens that are chosen are meant to be reproductively healthy. Even if he didn't want children, Arthur is going to take this very hard."

"Then I need to go talk to him!" Alfred exclaimed impatiently.

"I know, just… please be careful."

Alfred looked at him and then nodded, an understanding passing between them. They both cared about Arthur.

With that in mind, Alfred hurried down the hall in the direction Arthur had run off to.

* * *

_No no no no no fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK._ Arthur's thoughts had become entirely incoherent, adrenalin burning in his veins as tears blurred his vision.

He tore at the ground, ripping flowers out of the ground.

No no NO NO NO. Every flower he had planted since becoming Queen, every story that didn't matter. _Silence, devotion, malevolence, misanthropy, frigidity, heartlessness. Cheerfulness, new beginnings, joy, growing love-_ He clawed at the dirt, tearing them out by the roots, destroying everything. Dirt flew through the air, smeared on his robes, clumped under fingernails that were beginning to tear and bleed. He couldn't feel the pain of pebbles scraping at his hands over the sound of blood pumping through his veins.

_NO NO NO. I WAS HAPPY! I WAS HAPPY! NO!_ Flowers piled up, limp and lifeless. Everything he had, everything he'd gained over the past months- each memory rushed through his head: the meetings, the flowers, the ghost stories late at night, conversations over tea, board games and impromptu races and games of tag and knitting a present that he'd yet to give and his future which was bright before he threw it all away, him, Arthur, the obstinate, unlovable, _infertile_ Queen.

Arms wrapped around, grabbed his hands, and there were sounds he couldn't hear, couldn't hear over his shaking, the sobs which tore from his throat, a desperate keening noise escaping him-

He was rocking, back and forth, he was being rocked. A sound, like the ocean, like the blood rushing through his veins, _I CAN'T BREATHE_, a quiet _shh_. He gasped for air, curling up in on himself as Alfred anchored him to the world.

"_I'm sorry!_" he gasped, choking on his words, on the air in his lungs, and he wasn't even sure what he was sorry for_. I'm sorry for crying, for losing it, for getting dirt all over myself and now it's getting all over you, I'm sorry I'm a complete mess, I'm sorry for ruining everything, everything we had, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-_

"Shh, shh. Breathe, Arthur, it's okay, it's okay." If Arthur had been in his right mind, he would have noticed how Alfred's own voice sounded choked with tears, how the rocking seemed to be for Alfred's comfort more than his own.

"_NO!_" Arthur screamed, a primal scream from somewhere deep inside himself. He clung to Alfred and sobbed, full-out wailing, in a way he hadn't done since he first found out he was Queen. Alfred held him tightly, making soft meaningless sounds, sounds of comfort that had never been offered to Arthur before and he cried. He cried for his pain, his family that never loved him, his wasted education and wasted dreams of a stupid, stubborn omega. He cried for his past and the future he used to think he had, and for the future he had just gained and then lost again. He cried for all the times he hadn't been allowed to cry, hadn't allowed himself to cry.

He cried until his head ached and his throat went hoarse and he felt he'd cried out every last tear he had. And then he shuddered and shook, panic stuttering to a stop like car that had run out of gas. He stopped, finally, whole body aching with the force of his trembling, hands aching from scrapes and torn fingernails. "I'm sorry," he whined, pathetic, heart aching with pain and regret.

"It's okay, it's okay, it's okay," Alfred murmured, over and over again, a mantra of insane sanity. Arthur shook his head.

"It's not," he croaked. "I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for? It's not your fault, Arthur, it's okay." Arthur could hear the tears in Alfred's voice now.

"I'm infertile," he said, as if finally accepting the reality of what had happened.

"It's okay," Alfred repeated. And for some reason this made Arthur angry, because of course Alfred would say that, because he didn't understand, did he?

"No, it's not!" he said, wrenching himself away from Alfred and turning to face him.

"What do you mean?" Alfred asked, looking lost and confused and _oh so sad_, sad for him, for Arthur.

"I'm infertile, Alfred," Arthur said, voice shaking with exhausted emotion and pent up frustration. "You can't pretend that this is just okay. You're King, alright? I get it. You can keep the used omega if you want, you can keep the 'treasonous' Queen, and you can love the unlovable, but you _can't fix this_. I'm infertile. The Queen is not allowed to be infertile."

Alfred, who had looked increasingly pained and confused as Arthur spoke, said, "Why not?"

Arthur laughed in disbelief, a short, quick thing. "The Queen's whole job is to bear children!"

"Says who?" Alfred asked, voice taking on the edge of a challenge. "There's no law that says that."

"I-It's tradition!" Arthur spluttered, because even with all the traditions Alfred was quick to break, surely this was too far.

"Screw tradition," Alfred said immediately. For a moment, Arthur could do nothing but gape in astonishment.

"You can't be serious," he said weakly. "It would be completely unheard of! Queens are executed just on suspicion of being infertile. Now there's proof!"

"Do you even want a kid?" Alfred asked abruptly.

"What?"

"Do. You. Want a kid?" he repeated slowly.

"Wh-What's that got to do with anything?"

"It's your kid! It's got to do with everything!"

"That's not-"

"Arthur," Alfred said, cutting him off. "I'm not asking you as Queen, I'm asking you as Arthur. Do you want a kid, yes or no?"

"I," Arthur hesitated, considering his answer. "…I don't know. I mean… I always wanted a child, but after my career took off. Not that that matters now, and I was never fond of the idea of pregnancy, but-"

"Then this is good!" Alfred exclaimed almost cheerily.

"What?"

"Right? You don't have to be pregnant."

"Because I can't be," Arthur said dully. He never could get Alfred's optimism. And, wanting to be pregnant or not, it felt completely different knowing that he didn't have the option anymore.

"And we can adopt kids," Alfred said, brushing over Arthur's negativity. Arthur stared at him.

"…You're serious, aren't you?" he asked in disbelief.

"Well, yeah. I mean, maybe not _now_, I'm still kinda getting used to this whole King thing, but… yeah, I mean…" Alfred paused, frowning. "You don't even want to be pregnant. It's not your job to be."

"But it _is_," Arthur argued, exasperated.

"No. Your job is to rule the Kingdom with the King. That's what you do." Arthur just stared at him, shocked. _Your job is to rule the Kingdom with the King. _Was he serious? That hadn't been the job of the Queen in centuries. Alfred looked troubled, expression oddly serious even for the situation, before he took Arthur's hands in his own.

"Look, I don't know about having kids or being a show wife or whatever else it is you think you're supposed to do," he began. "You're smart, okay? And you're good at understanding things that I don't, like knowing when people say one thing and mean something different, or when they have ulterior motives." He paused, gathering his thoughts, or, perhaps, his courage. "And you know how to deal with nobles, and the rulers of the other Kingdoms. You're good at diplomacy and manipulation, and you can read those five hundred page proposals in a quarter of the time it takes me. I don't _care_ what the Queen is meant to do or is expected to do. You've done everything you can for this Kingdom, and you're the best Queen I could ever ask for." By now he was blushing, but still he looked Arthur in the eye. "And I hate it when you freak out over stuff like this because it shouldn't matter, but it does, and I hate it. It doesn't matter to me, though. And if anyone says anything about you being infertile, or calls you a bad Queen or something, I'll punch them. Or ignore them. And it won't matter, because I'm the King and you're the Queen and they can't do anything about it."

It was clear Alfred had finished his spiel, as he watched Arthur carefully for his reaction, almost daring him to argue. Arthur didn't. He felt numb with shock, and he almost felt like crying again, though he wasn't quite sure why. It was overwhelming. That was all. Everything about Alfred was simply overwhelming. Arthur still wasn't quite sure _how_ he had come up with all that, when Arthur wasn't sure he could even name that many positive things about himself, but he had. Because Alfred loved him. Alfred would love him while he re-learned how to love himself.

He said nothing, but leaned into the King again, hugging him. They sat there, in the middle of the ruined garden, each finding solace in the other.

* * *

**A/N The Arthur loving kids bit is based on England raising America, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, etc. For a fierce imperialistic empire, England definitely seemed to have a paternal side. Also, that bit in the garden was a full-blown panic attack.**


	13. Epilogue

Words: 444

* * *

"Hullo, love," Arthur said, setting down his bags to give Alfred a peck on the lips. He'd just returned from a diplomatic trip to Diamonds. It had gone very well, but Arthur was always glad to return home.

"Hello!" Alfred said brightly, nearly suffocating Arthur in a bear hug. "I missed you," he added, pouting slightly. Arthur smiled.

"And I missed you. But you know how that frog can be, the stubborn arse. I got him to agree to that joint military base you proposed, though."

"Really!?" Alfred exclaimed, lighting up. He'd been trying for months now to get Francis to agree, but all of his diplomatic envoys failed until Arthur had gotten fed up and decided to go.

"Yes, really. Come on, let's go to the garden. I missed that much more than you, of course," he teased.

Alfred smirked. "Jerk."

The couple walked through the garden, Arthur recounting his tales from his visit to Diamonds (an alarming number of which seemed to have taken place while drunk). Arthur didn't say it, but Alfred had gotten a letter from Francis implying that the two were finally on slightly better terms.

Arthur also told Alfred that he wasn't going on anymore diplomatic missions anytime soon. Alfred was relieved; this had been Arthur's fourth journey this year, and he had missed his Queen terribly. But he knew Arthur was just making up for lost time.

Besides, it wasn't like Alfred could stop him. He had finally passed the laws he'd been working on, the first of their kind in the history of the Kingdom of Spades, explicitly stating that the King and Queen had equal power over the Kingdom. (He also may have slipped in a few clauses limiting the power of the government, but luckily the nobles hadn't noticed yet.) It was considered revolutionary, although for Alfred and Arthur it was just common sense.

Alfred paused in their walk through the garden, stopping to admire a newly planted flower that he didn't know the name or meaning of. He decided to appreciate its beauty before Arthur ruined it by telling him. Arthur just smiled, also appreciating his eglantine rose_. A wound to be healed_. He had already replanted all of the flowers he had destroyed – lavender, aconite, lobelia, marigolds, hydrangea, daffodils. Many of them had dark meanings and bitter memories. But, they told a story. They told Arthur's story, a story with a happy ending.

The King and Queen were happy and in love. The Kingdom was flourishing, and the people were also happier than ever before. In the long, dark hallways of the cold castle, Arthur and Alfred finally found love and friendship.

* * *

**A/N The end! Kind of cliche, but I think they really needed a happy ending. Thank you everyone who's stuck with me through this story! If I find some time (and inspiration) I'll try to write more in the future.  
**


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